AND  SO  JESS  MORSE  STEPPED  FORWARD,  BASHFULLY, 

AND   FACED  THE  AUDIENCE. 
Girls  of  Central  High  on  the  Stage.  (Frontispiece)  — Page  205 


The  Girls 

of  Central  High 

on  the  Stage 

OR 
The  Play  That  Took  The  Prize 


BY 

GERTRUDE  W.  MORRISON 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  GIRLS   OF  CENTRAL  HIGH, 

THE  GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  LAKE  LUNA, 

ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


THE  WORLD  SYNDICATE  PUBLISHING  CO. 
CLEVELAND  NEW  YORK 

Made  in  U.  S.  A. 


COPYRIGHT,  1914,  BY 
GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 


PRESS  OF 
THE  COMMERCIAL  BOOKBINDING  CO. 

CLEVELAND 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    WHAT  THE  M.  0.  R.'s  NEEDED i 

II    WHAT  JOSEPHINE  MORSE   NEEDED 9 

III  WHAT  MR.   CHUMLEY   NEEDED 18 

IV  WHAT  MRS.   PRENTICE  NEEDED 28 

V    THERE  is  A  GENERAL  NEED 34 

VI    IT  ALL  COMES  OUT 40 

VII    THE  HAND  HELD  OUT 50 

VIII    THE  RACE  is  ON 60 

IX    A  SKATING  PARTY 70 

X    THE   MID- TERM    EXAMINATION 80 

XI  MISSING  87 

XII  COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENSE 95 

XIII  A  WAY  is   OPENED 104 

XIV  IN    SUSPENSE 113 

XV    A  MILE  A  MINUTE 121 

XVI     "  JUST  LIKE  A  STORY  BOOK  " 128 

XVII    LILY  PENDLETON  is  DISSATISFIED 139 

XVIII    THE  SKI  RUNNERS 146 

XIX    THE  FIRST  DRESS  REHERSAL 153 

XX  "MR.   PIZOTTI"    .  160 


no 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI    MOTHER  WIT  PUTS  Two  AND  Two  TOGETHER.  170 

XXII    MRS.  PLORNISH 178 

XXIII  "  CAUGHT  ON  THE  FLY  " 187 

XXIV  THE  GREAT  NIGHT 197 

XXV    GOOD  NEWS  FOR  JESS 202 


THE  GIRLS 

OF  CENTRAL  HIGH 

ON  THE  STAGE 

CHAPTER    I 

WHAT  THE  M.  O.  R/S  NEEDED 

THE  M.  O.  R.  house  was  alight  from  cellar 
to  garret  It  was  the  first  big  reception  of  the 
winter  and  followed  closely  the  end  of  the  first 
basketball  trophy  series  and  the  football  game 
between  the  Central  High  team  and  that  of 
West  High. 

The  M.  O.  R.  was  the  only  girls'  secret  so- 
ciety countenanced  by  Franklin  Sharp,  the  prin- 
cipal of  Central  High.  Until  you  belonged  to 
it  you  never  knew  what  the  three  initials  stood 
for;  after  you  were  lucky  enough  to  belong,  the 
name  of  the  society  became  such  a  deep  and  dark 
mystery  that  you  never  dared  whisper  it,  even  to 
your  very  closest  "  spoon." 

Therefore,  in  all  probability,  we  shall  never 
learn  just  what  "  M.  O.  R."  stands  for. 

Among  the  boys  of  Central  High,  their  sis- 
ters and  the  other  girls  belonging  to  the  secret 
society  were  spoken  of  as  "Mothers  of  the  Re- 
public." But  the  boys  were  only  jealous.  They 


2    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE: 

were  entirely  shut  out  of  the  doings  of  the  M. 
O.  R.'s,  which  long  antedated  the  Girls'  Branch 
Athletic  League;  the  boys  never  were  allowed 
within  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  "  House  "  save 
on  the  occasion  of  the  special  reception  at 
Easter. 

The  house  was  a  narrow  slice  of  brownstone 
front  in  the  middle  of  a  block  of  similar  dwell- 
ings, within  sight  of  the  schoolhouse,  and  in  the 
Hill  section  of  Centerport.  The  Hill  was  sup- 
posed to  be  very  exclusive,  and  rents  were  high. 
And  the  rental  of  the  thirteen-foot  slice  of 
brownstone  had  become  a  serious  problem  to  the 
Board  of  Governors  of  the  M.  O.  R. 

Some  M.  O.  R.'s  had  gone  to  college,  many 
of  them  had  married,  some  had  moved  many, 
many  miles  away  from  Centerport.  But  most  of 
them  remembered  tenderly  the  first  school  so- 
ciety of  which  they  had  been  members.  The 
alumnae  were  loyal  to  M.  O.  R. 

And  some  of  the  alumnae  were  on  the  present 
Board  of  Governors,  and  were — on  this  recep- 
tion night — discussing  seriously  with  the  more 
active  members  of  the  board  the  financial  state 
of  the  society.  The  owner  of  the  house  had 
notified  them  of  a  raise  in  rent  for  the  coming 
year  to  an  absolutely  impossible  figure.  The 
M.  O.  R.'s  must  look  for  new  quarters. 


WHAT  THE  M.  O.  R.'S  NEEDED  3 

"  If  we  could  only  interest  the  pupils  of  Cen- 
tral High,  as  a  whole,  members  and  those  who 
are  not  in  the  M.  O.  R.,"  sighed  Mrs.  Mabel 
Kerrick. 

The  presence  of  this  widowed  lady,  daughter 
of  one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  Centerport,  and 
an  alumna  of  the  school,  upon  the  Board  of 
Governors  of  the  M.  O.  R.  needs  an  explanation 
that  must  be  deferred. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  can  interest  the  boys — 
they  only  make  fun,"  said  a  very  bright  looking 
girl  sitting  upon  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and 
beside  another  very  bright  looking  girl  who 
looked  so  much  like  her  (they  were  dressed  just 
alike)  that  unless  one  had  seen  her  lips  move  one 
could  never  have  told  whether  Dora  Lockwood, 
or  Dorothy  Lockwood,  had  spoken. 

"And  how  are  you  going  to  interest  the  girls 
who  haven't  been  asked  to  join  the  M.  O.  R. — 
and  are  not  likely  to  be  asked  ?  "  demanded  the 
other  twin.  "  The  very  exclusiveness  of  the  so- 
ciety makes  it  impossible  for  us  to  call  upon  the 
school  in  general  for  help." 

"  Just  raise  the  fees-  and  we  can  pay  the  higher 
rent,"  remarked  another  girl,  briskly. 

"  And  then,  at  the  end  of  next  year,  Mr. 
Chumley  will  raise  it  again.  He  owns  more 
rentable  property  than  any  other  man  on  the 


4    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Hill,  and  just  as  soon  as  he  is  sure  his  tenant  is 
settled  he  begins  to  put  up  the  rent  on  him,"  ob- 
served a  fourth  girl. 

"  That  is  just  it,"  Mrs.  Kerrick  responded, 
slowly.  "  The  society  should  not  pay  rent.  We 
should  own  our  own  house.  We  should  build. 
We  should  raise  a  goodly  sum  of  money  this 
winter  toward  the  building  fund.  But  we  must 
find  some  method  of  interesting  everybody  in 
our  need. 

"A  membership  in  the  M.  O.  R.  has  always 
been  a  reward  of  merit.  Freshmen  cannot,  of 
course,  be  '  touched '  for  the  M.  O.  R.,  and  few 
sophomores  attain  that  enviable  eminence.  But 
by  the  time  a  girl  has  reached  her  senior  year 
at  Central  High  it  is  her  own  fault  if  she  is  not 
a  member. 

"  Therefore,  the  girls  of  the  younger  classes 
should  be  interested  in  the  stability  of  the  so- 
ciety, irrespective  of  whether  they  are  members 
yet,  or  not.  And  naturally,  if  the  girls  are  inter- 
ested, they  can  interest  their  brothers  and  their 
parents." 

"  Suppose,  Mrs.  Kerrick,  a  girl  hasn't  any 
brothers?"  demurely  asked  a  quiet  girl  in  the 
corner. 

"Very  well,  then,  Nellie  Agnew!"  said  the 
lady,  laughing.  "You  go  and  interest  some 


WHAT  THE  M.  O.  R.'S  NEEDED  5 

other  girl's  brother.  But  we  haven't  heard  from 
little  Mother  Wit,"  added  Mrs.  Kerrick,  turning 
suddenly  to  a  pretty,  plump  girl,  all  in  brown 
and  with  shining  hair  and  eyes,  who  sat  by  her- 
self at  the  far  end  of  the  room.  "Haven't  you 
a  thing  to  say,  Laura  Belding?" 

"  Won't  it  be  a  little  difficult,"  asked  the  girl 
addressed,  diffidently,  "  to  invent  anything  that 
will  interest  everybody  in  the  building  fund  of 
the  M.  O.  R.?" 

"  That's  what  we're  all  saying,  Laura,"  said 
one  of  the  other  members  of  the  Board.  "  Now 
you  invent  something!" 

"  You  give  me  a  hard  task,"  laughed  the 
brown  girl.  "  Of  course,  all  members — both 
active  and  graduate — will  be  interested  for  their 
membership's  sake.  The  problem  is,  then,  in 
addition,  to  interest,  first,  the  girls  who  may  be 
members,  and,  second,  the  boys  and  general  pub- 
lic who  can  never  be  members  of  the  M.  O.  R." 

"Logically  put,  Laura,"  urged  Mrs.  Kerrick. 
"Then  what?" 

"Why  wouldn't  a  play  fill  the  bill?"  asked 
Laura.  "  Offer  a  prize  for  an  original  play 
written  by  a  girl  of  Central  High,  irrespective 
of  class  or  whether  she  is  an  M.  O.  R.  or  not — 
that  will  interest  the  girls  in  general.  Have  the 
play  presented  by  boys  and  girls  of  the  school — 


6    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

that  will  hold  the  boys.  And  the  parents  and 
general  public  can  help  by  paying  to  see  the  per- 
formance." 

The  younger  members  of  the  committee  looked 
at  one  another  doubtfully;  but  Mrs.  Kerrick 
clapped  her  hands  enthusiastically. 

"  A  play !  The  very  thing !  And  Mr.  Sharp 
will  approve  that,  no  doubt.  We  will  appoint 
him  chief  of  the  committee  to  decide  upon  the 
play.  And  we  will  offer  a  prize  big  enough  to 
make  it  worth  while  for  every  girl  to  try  her 
best  to  produce  a  good  one." 

"But  that  prize  must  be  deducted  from  the 
profits  of  the  performance,"  objected  the  practi- 
cal Nellie  Agnew. 

"  No,"  replied  Mrs.  Kerrick,  promptly.  "  That 
will  be  my  gift.  /  will  offer  the  prize — two  hun- 
dred dollars — for  the  best  play  submitted  before 
New  Year's.  How  is  that?  Do  you  think  it 
will  '  take '  ?  Come,  Laura,  does  your  inventive 
genius  approve  of  that  suggestion?" 

"  I  think  it  is  very  lovely  of  you,  Mrs.  Ker- 
rick," cried  Mother  Wit.  "  Oh,  my!  Two  hun- 
dred dollars !  It  is  magnificent.  Let  us  find  Mr. 
Sharp  at  once  and  see  if  he  approves.  He  is 
still  in  the  house,  I  know,"  and  at  her  suggestion 
somebody  was  sent  to  hunt  for  the  principal  of 
Central  High,  who  was  one  of  the  guests  of 


WHAT  THE  M.  O.  R.'S  NEEDED  J 

honor  of  the  M.  O.  R.  on  this  particular  evening. 

Centerport  was  a  lively,  wealthy  inland  city 
situated  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Luna,  and  boast- 
ing three  high  schools  within  its  precincts.  The 
new  building  of  Central  High  was  much  finer 
and  larger  than  the  East  and  West  Highs,  and 
there  was  considerable  rivalry  between  the  girls 
of  the  three  schools,  not  only  in  athletic  matters, 
but  in  all  other  affairs.  Out  of  school  hours, 
basketball  and  other  athletics  had  pretty  well 
filled  the  minds  of  the  girls  of  Central  High; 
and  Laura  Belding  and  her  particular  chums  had 
been  as  active  in  these  inter-school  athletics  as 
any. 

In  fact,  it  was  Mother  Wit,  as  her  friends  and 
schoolmates  called  Laura,  who  interested  Colo- 
nel Richard  Swayne,  Mrs.  Kerrick's  father,  in 
the  matter  of  girls'  athletics  and  so  made  possible 
for  the  girls  of  Central  High  the  finest  athletic 
field  and  gymnasium  in  the  State. 

Incidentally  she  had  interested  Mrs.  Kerrick 
in  the  girls  of  Central  High,  too,  and  reminded 
the  widowed  lady  that  she  was  an  alumna  and 
a  member  of  the  M.  O.  R.  In  her  renewed  in- 
terest in  the  affairs  of  the  secret  society  and  in 
the  Girls'  Branch  Athletic  League,  Mrs.  Kerrick 
had  become  very  different  from  the  almost  help- 
less invalid  first  introduced  to  the  reader  in  the 


8    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

first  volume  of  this  series,  entitled  "  The  Girls  of 
Central  High;  Or,  Rivals  for  All  Honors." 

In  that  first  volume  was  related  the  establish- 
ment of  athletics  for  girls  at  Central  High,  and 
introduced  Laura  Belding  and  her  especial  chums 
in  their  school  trials  and  triumphs.  In  the  sec- 
ond volume,  "  The  Girls  of  Central  High  on 
Lake  Luna;  Or,  The  Crew  That  Won,"  were 
narrated  the  summer  aquatic  sports  of  the  same 
group  of  girls  and  their  boy  friends. 

"  The  Girls  of  Central  High  at  Basketball;  Or, 
The  Great  Gymnasium  Mystery,"  the  third  vol- 
ume of  the  series,  told  of  the  girls  when  they  had 
become  juniors  and  related  the  struggle  of  the 
rival  basketball  teams  of  the  three  Centerport 
highs,  and  the  high  schools  of  Keyport  and 
Lumberport,  at  either  end  of  Lake  Luna,  for 
the  trophy  cup.  That  series  of  games  had  just 
been  finished  and  Central  High  had  won  the 
trophy,  when  Laura  and  her  friends,  as  members 
of  the  M.  O.  R.,  are  again  introduced  to  the 
reader's  notice  at  the  opening  of  this  chapter. 


CHAPTER  II 

WHAT    JOSEPHINE    MORSE    NEEDED 

IN  spite  of  the  bright  lights  illuminating  the 
windows  of  the  M.  O.  R.  house — and  many 
other  larger  and  finer  houses  at  that  end  of 
Whiffle  Street — outside  it  was  dark  and  dreary 
enough.  Specially  was  this  so  at  the  "  poverty- 
stricken  end,"  as  Josephine  Morse  called  her  sec- 
tion of  the  street  Jess  and  her  widowed  mother 
lived  on  the  fringe  of  the  wealthy  Hill  district, 
where  Whiffle  Street  develops  an  elbow,  suddenly 
becomes  narrow,  and  debouches  upon  Market 
Street. 

It  was  raining,  too.  Not  an  honest,  splash- 
ing downpour,  but  a  drizzling,  half-hearted  rain 
that  drifted  about  the  streets  as  though  ashamed 
of  itself,  leaving  a  deposit  of  slime  on  all  the 
crosswalks,  and  making  the  corner  street-lamps 
weep  great  tears.  The  gas-lamps,  too,  seemed 
in  a  fog  and  struggled  feebly  against  the  black- 
ness of  the  evening. 

Under  a  huge  umbrella  which  snuffed  her  ai- 
9 


10    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

most  like  a  candle,  Jess  had  made  her  way  into 
Market  Street  and  to  Mr.  Closewick's  grocery 
store  near  the  corner.  She  carried  a  basket  on 
her  arm  and  she  had  given  the  clerk  rather  a  long 
list  of  necessary  things,  although  she  had  studied 
to  make  the  quantities  as  modest  as  possible. 
The  clerk  had  put  them  all  up  now  and  packed 
them  into  the  basket  and  stood  expectantly  with 
the  list  checked  off  in  his  hand. 

"  Two  dollars  and  seven  cents,  Miss  Jess,"  he 
said. 

"  I'll  have  to  ask  you  to  add  that  to  our  bill," 
said  the  girl,  flushing.  "  Mother  is  short  of 
money  just  now." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Miss  Jess ;  I'll  speak  to  Mr. 
Closewick,"  said  the  clerk,  seemingly  as  much 
embarrassed  as  the  girl  herself,  and  he  stepped 
hastily  toward  the  glass-enclosed  office  at  the 
rear  of  the  store. 

But  the  pursy  old  man  with  the  double  chin 
and  spectacles  on  his  forehead,  the  height  of 
which  the  wisp  of  reddish-gray  hair  could  not 
hide,  had  observed  it  all.  He  got  down  ponder- 
ously from  his  stool  and  squeaked  out  behind  the 
long  counter  in  his  shiny  boots. 

"  I  sent  my  bill  over  to  your  mother  this  morn- 
ing, Miss  Jess,"  he  said.  "It  is  more  than 
twenty  dollars  Without  this  list  of  goods  to- 


WHAT  JOSEPHINE  MORSE  NEEDED         n 

night,"  and  he  shook  the  modest  little  paper  in 
his  hand,  having  taken  it  from  the  clerk. 

"Mother  is  short  of  money  just  now,"  re- 
peated Jess. 

"  So'm  I.  You  tell  her  so.  I  can't  let  you 
increase  your  indebtedness,"  and  his  pudgy  hand 
lifted  the  basket  and  put  it  on  the  shelf  behind 
him. 

"  You  pay  me  something  on  account,  or  pay 
for  these  goods  you've  ordered  this  (evening. 
I'm  needing  money,  too." 

"  Mr.  Closewick !  I  hope  you  won't  do  that," 
gasped  Jess,  paling  under  his  stern  glance.  "  We 
will  pay  you — we  always  have.  Mother  some- 
times has  to  wait  for  her  money — a  long  time. 
We  spend  many  a  twenty-dollar  bill  in  your 
store  during  the  year " 

"That  ain't  neither  here  nor  there,"  said  the 
grocer,  ponderously.  "  It's  a  rule  I  have.  Never 
let  a  bill  run  more  than  twenty  dollars.  'Specially 
where  there's  no  man  in  the  family.  Hard  to 
collect  from  a  woman.  Makes  me  bad  friends 
if  I  press  'em.  I  can  afford  to  risk  losing  twenty 
dollars;  but  no  more!  " 

"  How  can  you!  "  cried  Jess,  under  her  breath, 
for  there  was  somebody  else  entering  the  store. 
"  We  have  bought  of  you  for  years 

"And  if  I  hadn't  stuck  to  the  few  business 


12    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

rules  I  have,  I  wouldn't  have  been  here  selling 
you  goods  for  years,"  returned  Mr.  Closewick, 
grimly.  "The  sheriff  would  have  sold  me  out. 
I'm  sorry  for  your  mother,  and  I  don't  want  to 
lose  her  trade.  But  business  is  business." 

"  And  you  cannot  favor  us  for  this  single  oc- 
casion?" choked  Jess. 

"  It  would  lead  to  others ;  I  can't  break  a  rule," 
said  the  grocer,  stubbornly.  "Come  now,  Miss 
Jess !  You  go  home  and  tell  your  mother  how  it 
is.  I'll  keep  this  basket  right  here  for  you,  and 
you  come  back  with  the  two-seven,  and  it  will  be 
all  right." 

"  That  would  be  useless,"  said  Jess,  clinging 
to  the  counter  for  support,  and  feeling  for  the 
moment  as  though  she  should  sink.  "  We 
haven't  any  money — at  present.  If  we  had  I 
should  not  have  asked  you  for  any  extension  of 
credit.  Please  give  me  back  my  basket." 

"  So  ?  "  returned  the  grocer,  frowning.  "  Very 
well,"  and  he  deliberately  unpacked  the  parcels 
and  handed  her  the  basket — making  a  show  of  so 
doing  in  the  presence  of  the  newly  arrived  cus- 
tomer. "  And  what  can  I  do  for  you,  this  even- 
ing, Mrs.  Brown?"  he  asked,  blandly,  speaking 
to  the  new  arrival  while  he  handed  Jess  her 
basket  without  a  word. 

"  And  that  woman  will  tell  about  it  all  over 


WHAT  JOSEPHINE  MORSE  NEEDED         13 

town !  "  thought  the  girl,  as  she  hurried  into  the 
street.  "Oh,  dear,  dear!  whatever  shall  I  do?" 

For  the  cupboard  at  the  Morse  cottage  was 
very  bare  indeed.  Mrs.  Mary  Morse  had  some 
little  standing  as  a  contributor  to  the  more  popu- 
lar magazines;  but  the  returns  from  her  pen- 
work  being  her  entire  means  of  income,  there 
were  sometimes  weary  waitings  for  checks.  Jess 
had  been  used  to  these  unpleasant  occasions  ever 
since  she  was  a  very  little  girl.  Her  mother  was 
of  a  nervous  temperament  and  easily  disturbed; 
and  as  Jess  had  grown  she  had  tried  to  shield  her 
mother,  at  these  times  of  famine,  from  its  most 
unpleasant  features. 

As  witness  her  passage-at-arms  with  the 
grocer,  Mr.  Closewick.  No  money  in  the  house, 
an  empty  pantry,  their  credit  cut  off  at  the  store 
where  they  had  always  traded,  and  no  credit  es- 
tablished at  any  other  grocer's  shop!  The  situa- 
tion looked  desperate,  indeed,  to  Jess  Morse. 

Jess  shrank  from  trying  the  butcher's  and  the 
dairy  store,  too.  At  each  shop  an  unpaid  bill 
would  stare  her  in  the  face  and  to-night  she  felt 
as  though  each  proprietor  would  demand  a  "  pay- 
ment on  account."  It  was  a  black  night  indeed. 
November  was  going  out  in  its  very  mourn  fullest 
and  disanallest  manner. 

And  for  Jess  Morse  there  was  an  added  bur- 


14    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

den  of  disappointment  and  trouble.  She  was 
not  able  to  attend  the  M.  O.  R.  reception,  al- 
though she  was  a  member.  Laura  Belding,  her 
very  dearest  friend,  would  be  there  and  would 
wonder  why  she,  Jess,  did  not  appear.  And 
after  the  reception  Chet  Belding,  Laura's  brother, 
would  be  waiting  to  take  Jess  home — she  hadn't 
had  the  heart  to  tell  Chet  that  she  would  not 
need  his  escort  from  the  reception. 

But,  as  Jess  had  told  her  -mother,  that  blue 
party  dress  .had  become  impossible.  Let  alone 
its  being  months  behind  the  fashion,  it  was 
frayed  around  the  bottom  and  the  front  breadth 
was  sorely  stained.  And  she  hadn't  another 
gown  fit  to  put  on  in  the  evening.  She  did  so 
long  for  something  to  wear  at  a  party  in  which 
her  friends  would  not  know  her  two  blocks  away. 
So  she  had  "  cut "  the  reception  at  the  M.  O.  R. 
house. 

All  this  was  a  heavy  load  on  Jess  Morse's 
mind  as  she  approached,  with  hesitating  steps, 
the  butter  and  egg  shop  kept  by  Mr.  Vander- 
griff. 

"Certainly,"  thought  the  troubled  girl,  "I 
either  need  a  whole  lot  of  courage,  or  a  lot  of 
money — either  would  come  in  very  handy  to- 
night." 

Just  then  Jess  was  aroused  from  her  brown 


WHAT  JOSEPHINE  MORSE  NEEDED          15 

study  by  hearing  somebody  calling  breathlessly 
after  her. 

"  Hi !  Hi !  Aren't  you  going  to  look 
asound  ?  Jess  Morse !  " 

A  girl  smaller  than  herself,  and  dressed  from 
neck  to  heels  in  a  glistening  raincoat,  ran  under 
Jess's  umbrella  and  seized  her  arm.  She  was  a 
laughing,  curly-haired  girl  with  dancing  black 
eyes  and  an  altogether  roguish  look. 

"  Jess  Morse !  don't  you  ever  look  back  on  the 
street — no  matter  what  happens?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"  For  what  was  Lot's  wife  turned  to  salt, 
Bobby?  "  returned  Jess,  solemnity. 

"For  good!     Now  you  know,   don't  you?' 
laughed  Clara  Hargrew,  whose  youthful  friendt 
knew  her  as  "  Bobby." 

"  Why  aren't  you  at  the  'big  doin's '  tonight,'* 
demanded  the  harum-scarum  Bobby.  "  You're  a 
Mother  of  the  Republic;  what  means  this  delin- 
quency ?  " 

"  Just  supposing  I  had  something  else  to  do?  " 
returned  Jess,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  "  I'm  on 
an  errand  now." 

She  wished  to  shake  Bobby  off.  She  dared 
not  take  her  into  Mr.  Vandergriff's  store.  Sup- 
pose the  butter  and  egg  man  should  treat  her  as 
the  grocer  had? 


16    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"Say!  you  ought  to  be  up  there/*  cried  the 
unconscious  Bobby.  "  I  just  came  past  the 
house  and  it  was  all  lit  up  like — like  a  hotel. 
And  Mr.  Sharp  was  just  coming  out  with  Mrs. 
Kerrick.  Mrs.  Kerrick  is  going  to  do  something 
big  for  us  girls  of  Central  High." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  asked  Jess,  only  half 
interested  in  Bobby's  gossip. 

"  Going  to  give  us  a  chance  to  win  a  prize,  or 
something,"  pursued  Bobby. 

"  Oh!  how  do  you  know?  "  Jess  showed  more 
interest  now. 

"  Why,  I  heard  Mr.  Sharp  say,  as  he  was  help- 
ing Mrs.  Kerrick  into  Colonel  Swayne's  auto: 

"  *  The  girls  of  Central  High  should  be  de- 
lighted, Mrs.  Kerrick — and  very  grateful  to  you, 
indeed.  Two  hundred  dollars!  And  a  chance 
for  any  smart  girl  to  win  it ! ' — just  like  that. 
Now,  Jess,  you  and  I  are  both  smart  girls,  aren't 
we  ?  "  demanded  Bobby,  roguishly. 

"  We  think  we  are,  at  any  rate,"  returned  Jess, 
more  eagerly.  "  Two  hundred  dollars !  Oh ! 
wouldn't  that  be  fine !  " 

"  It  would  buy  a  lot  of  candy  and  ice-cream 
sodas,"  chuckled  Bobby. 

But  to  herself  Jess  Morse  thought:  "And  it 
would  mean  the  difference,  for  mother  and  me, 
between  penury  and  independence!  Oh,  dear 


WHAT  JOSEPHINE  MORSE  NEEDED         17 

me!  is  it  something  that  /  can  do  to  earn  two 
hundred  dollars?  " 

And  she  listened  to  Bobby's  surmises  about 
the  mysterious  prize  without  taking  in  half  what 
the  younger  girl  was  saying.  Two  hundred  dol- 
lars! And  she  and  her  mother  did  not  have  a 
cent.  She  looked  up  and  saw  the  lights  of  the 
butter  and  egg  store  just  ahead,  and  sighed. 


CHAPTER  III 

WHAT    MR.    CHUMLEY   NEEDED 

"  WELL,  old  Molly-grubs,  I've  got  to  leave 
you  here,"  said  Bobby  Hargrew,  pinching  the 
arm  of  Jess.  "  You're  certainly  down  in  the 
mouth  to-night.  I  never  saw  you  so  before.  I'd 
like  to  know  what  the  matter  is  with  you,"  com- 
plained Bobby,  and  ran  off  in  the  rain. 

Jess  was  heartily  glad  to  get  rid  of  her;  and  it 
was  seldom  that  she  ever  felt  that  way  about 
Bobby.  Bobby  was  the  double  distilled  essence 
of  cheerfulness. 

But  Jess  felt  as  though  nothing  could  cheer 
her  to-night  but  the  finding  of  a  big,  fat  pocket- 
book  on  the  street — one  that  "didn't  belong  to 
nobody !  "  There  wasn't  such  an  object  in  sight, 
however,  along  the  glistening  walk — the  walk 
that  glistened  in  the  lamplight  from  Mr.  Van- 
dergriff's  store. 

She  positively  had  to  try  her  luck  at  the  butter 
and  egg  shop.  The  man  could  do  no  more  than 
refuse  her,  that  was  sure. 

18 


WHAT  MR.   CHUMLEY   NEEDED  19 

But  when  Jess  had  lowered  her  umbrella  and 
backed  into  the  shop,  she  found  several  cus- 
tomers waiting  at  the  counter.  Mr.  Vander- 
griff  and  his  son,  whom  the  boys  called  "  Griff  " 
and  who  played  fullback  on  the  Central  High 
football  team,  were  waiting  upon  these  custom- 
ers. Soon  Griff  was  through  with  the  man  he 
was  waiting  on  and  came  to  Jess. 

"What's  yours  to-night,  Miss  Morse?"  he 
asked,  and  was  so  cheerful  about  it  that  the  girl's 
heart  rose.  They  didn't  owe  Mr.  Vandergriff 
such  a  large  bill,  anyway.  The  proprietor  was 
waiting  upon  the  lady  who  stood  beside  Jess  as 
she  gave  her  order  to  Griff.  The  lady  was  a 
very  dressy  person  and  she  laid  her  silver-mesh 
purse  on  the  counter  between  herself  and  Jess. 
The  latter  saw  the  glint  of  gold  coins  between 
the  meshes  of  the  purse  and  her  heart  throbbed. 
She  moved  quietly  away  from  the  lady.  Wasn't 
it  wicked — seemingly — that  one  should  have  so 
much  money,  while  another  needed  the  very  ne- 
cessities of  life? 

"  Thank  you,  Griff,"  Jess  heard  herself  saying 
to  the  younger  Vandergriff,  as  he  packed  her 
modest  order  in  the  basket.  "  I  shall  have  to 
ask  you  to  charge  that." 

"  All  right,  Miss  Morse.  Nothing  more  to- 
night?" 


20    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  No,"  said  Jess,  and  went  back  and  unhooked 
her  umbrella  from  the  edge  of  the  counter  where 
she  had  hung  it,  and  started  for  the  door.  A 
bright-eyed  man  in  a  long  blue  raincoat  who  had 
been  waited  upon  by  Griff  already  was  just  then 
going  out,  and  he  held  open  the  door  for  her. 
As  she  stepped  out  the  girl  saw  that  the  rain  was 
no  longer  falling — merely  a  mist  clung  about  the 
street  lamps.  She  did  not  raise  her  umbrella, 
but  hurried  toward  home. 

There  was  enough  in  her  basket  for  breakfast, 
at  least.  She  would  wait  until  to-morrow — 
which  was  Saturday — before  she  went  to  the 
butcher's.  Perhaps  something  would  happen. 
Perhaps  in  the  morning  mail  there  would  be  a 
check  for  her  mother  instead  of  a  returned  manu- 
script. 

And  all  the  time,  while  her  feet  flew  home- 
ward, she  thought  of  the  prize  of  two  hundred 
dollars  that  Mrs.  Mabel  Kerrick  was  to  offer  for 
the  girls  of  Central  High  to  work  for.  What 
was  the  task?  Could  it  be  something  that  she 
excelled  in? 

Jess  was  almost  tempted  to  wait  up  until  the 
reception  was  over  and  then  run  to  the  Belding 
house  and  see  her  chum  before  Laura  went  to 
bed.  Laura  might  know  all  about  it. 

Two  hundred  dollars! 


WHAT  MR.   CHUM  LEY  NEEDED  21 

Jess  saw  the  words  before  her  in  dancing, 
rain-drop  letters.  They  seemed  to  beckon  her 
on,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  was  at  the  cottage, 
just  at  the  "  elbow  "  of  Whiffle  Street,  and  came 
breathlessly  into  the  kitchen. 

The  room  was  empty,  and  the  fire  in  the  stove 
was  but  a  spark.  Jess  tiptoed  to  the  sitting-room 
door  and  peered  in.  Her  mother,  wearing  an 
ink-stained  jacket,  was  busy  at  her  desk,  the  pen 
scratching  on  the  big  sheets  of  pad  paper.  The 
typewriter  was  open,  too,  and  the  girl  could  see 
that  the  title  and  opening  paragraphs  of  a  new 
story  had  already  been  written  on  the  machine. 

"  Genius  burns  again ! "  sighed  Jess,  and  went 
back  to  remove  her  damp  hat  and  jacket,  and  re- 
plenish the  fire.  Mother  would  want  some  tea 
by  and  by,  if  she  worked  late  into  the  evening, 
and  Jess  drew  the  kettle  forward. 

She  stood  her  umbrella  behind  the  entry  door, 
and  removed  her  overshoes  and  put  them  under 
the  range  to  dry.  She  had  scarcely  done  so 
when  a  stumbling  foot  sounded  on  the  porch. 
She  opened  the  door  before  the  visitor  could 
knock,  so  that  Mrs.  Morse  would  not  be  dis- 
turbed. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Chumley !  "  she  exclaimed,  recog- 
nizing the  withered  little  man  who  stood  there. 

"Oh!  you're  home,   are  ye?"  squeaked  the 


22    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

landlord.  "  I  was  here  a  little  while  ago  and 
nobody  answered  my  knock,  though  I  could  hear 
that  typewriter  going  rat,  tat,  tat  all  the  time." 

"  I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Chumley,"  said  Jess,  hastily. 
"  But  you  know  how  mother  is  when  she's  busy. 
She  hears  nothing." 

"Humph!" 

"Won't  you  come  in?"  hesitated  Jess,  still 
holding  the  door.  The  rent  was  not  due  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  he  usually  gave  them  a  few  days' 
grace  if  they  did  not  happen  to  have  it  right  in 
the  nick  of  time. 

"  I  guess  I  will,"  squeaked  the  landlord. 

He  was  a  little  whiffet  of  a  man — "  looked  like 
a  figure  on  a  New  Year's  cake,"  Bobby  Hargrew 
said.  His  mouth  was  a  mere  slit  in  his  gray, 
wrinkled  face,  and  his  eyes  were  so  close  together 
that  the  sharp  bridge  of  his  nose  scarcely  parted 
them. 

Some  landlords  hire  agents  to  attend  to  their 
property  and  to  the  collection  of  rents.  Not  so 
Mr.  Chumley.  He  did  not  mind  the  trouble  of 
collecting,  and  he  could  fight  off  repairs  longer 
than  any  landlord  in  town.  And  the  one-half  of 
one  per  cent,  collection  fee  was  an  item. 

"Think  I've  come  ahead  of  time,  eh?"  he 
cackled,  rubbing  his  blue  hands — as  blue  as  a 
turkey's  foot,  Jess  thought — over  the  renewed 


WHAT   MR.   CHUMLEY   NEEDED  23 

fire.  "It  ain't  many  days  before  rent's  due 
again.  If  ye  have  it  handy  ye  can  pay  me  now, 
Miss  Josephine." 

"  It  isn't  handy,  Mr.  Chumley.  We  are 
shorter  than  usual  just  now,"  said  Jess,  hating 
the  phrase  that  comes  so  often  to  the  lips  of  pov- 
erty. 

"  Well!  well!  Can't  expect  money  before  it's 
due,  I  s'pose,"  said  the  old  man,  licking  his  thin 
lips.  "  And  I'm  afraid  ye  find  it  pretty  hard  to 
meet  your  bills  at  'tis  ?  "  he  added,  his  head  on 
one  side  like  a  gray  old  stork. 

Jess  flushed  and  then  paled.  What  had  he 
heard?  Had  that  Mrs.  Brown,  in  the  grocer's 
shop,  told  him  already  that  Mr.  Closewick  had 
refused  to  let  her  increase  the  bill?  The  girl 
looked  at  him  without  speaking,  schooling  her 
features  to  betray  nothing  of  the  fear  that 
gripped  her  heart. 

"  Hey?  "  squeaked  Mr.  Chumley.  "  Don't  ye 
hear  well?" 

"  I  hear  you,  sir,"  said  Jess,  glancing  quickly 
to  make  sure  that  she  had  closed  the  door  tightly 
between  the  kitchen  and  the  room  in  which  her 
mother  was  at  work. 

"Well,  I'm  willin'  to  help  folks  out— al- 
ways," said  Mr.  Chumley,  his  withered  cheek 
flushing.  "  If  you're  finding  the  rent  of  this 


24    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

house  too  much  f  er  ye,  why,  there's  cheaper  tene- 
ments in  town.  I  own  some  of  'em  myself. 
Taxes  is  increased  this  year  and  I  gotter  go  up 
on  all  rentals " 

"  But,  Mr.  Chumley !  we've  lived  in  this  cot- 
tage of  yours  ever  since  I  can  remember.  We've 
paid  you  a  lot  of  rent.  You  surely  are  not  going" 
to  increase  it  now  ?  " 

"  I  am,  after  December,  Miss  Josephine,"  de- 
clared Mr.  Chumley.  "  I  gotter  do  it.  Begin- 
nin'  with  January  first  your  mother  will  have  to- 
pay  three  dollars  more  each  month.  You  kin  tell 
her  that.  I'm  giving  you  a  month's  warning." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Chumley !  Surely  you  won't  put  us 
out " 

"  I  ain't  sayin'  nothing  about  putting  you  out, 
though  your  mother  ain't  as  sure  pay  as  some 
others.  She's  slow.  And  she's  a  woman  alone. 
Hard  to  git  your  money  out  of  a  widder  woman. 
No.  She  can  stay  if  she  pays  the  three  dollars 
increase.  Otherwise,  I  got  the  cottage  as  good 
as  rented  right  now  to  another  party." 

He  moved  toward  the  door,  without  lifting  his 
eyes  again  to  Jess's  face. 

"  You'll  tell  her  that,"  he  said.  "  I'd  like  to 
do  business  with  her  instead  of  with  a  half -grown 
gal.  Don't  suppose  you  could  let  me  have  the 
next  month's  rent  to-night,  eh?  " 


WHAT  MR.    CHUMLEY   NEEDED  25 

"  It  isn't  due  yet,  Mr.  Chumley,"  Jess  said, 
undecided  whether  to  "  get  mad  "  or  to  cry ! 

"  Well—         Hello !  who's  these  ?  " 

There  was  another  clatter  of  footsteps  upon 
the  porch  as  old  Mr.  Chumley  opened  the  outer 
•door.  Jess  looked  past  him  and  saw  a  female 
and  a  male  figure  crowding  into  the  entry.  For 
•a  moment  she  recognized  neither. 

"  That's  the  girl ! "  exclaimed  the  woman,  and 
her  voice  was  sharp  and  excited. 

"  Hello ! "  muttered  Mr.  Chumley,  and  stood 
.aside.  "  Here's  young  Vandergriff." 

Jess  looked  on,  speechless  with  amazement. 
She  now  recognized  Griff,  and  the  woman  with 
Jiim  was  the  fashionably  attired  lady  who  had 
stood  beside  Jess  at  the  counter  in  the  butter 
and  egg  store. 

"  Miss  Jess !  Miss  Jess !  "  exclaimed  Griff, 
-quickly.  "  Did  you  open  your  umbrella  on  the 
way  home?  " 

"  I— I " 

"  Stupid !  "  exclaimed  the  woman. 

"  Why,  Griff,  I  didn't  open  it." 

"  And  you  haven't  opened  it  yet?" 

"Why — no,"  admitted  the  puzzled  Jess. 

"  Where  is  it?  "  cried  the  young  man.  "  Now, 
you  wait,  Mrs.  Prentice.  I  know  it  will  be  all 

Tight" 


26    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  That's  all  very  fine,  young  man.  But  it  isn't 
your  purse  that  is  lost,"  exclaimed  the  woman, 
tartly. 

At  last  Jess  understood.  She  started  forward 
and  her  face  flamed. 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried.  "  Did  you  lose  that  silver 
mesh  purse  ?  " 

"  You  see !  She  remembers  it  well  enough," 
said  the  woman. 

"  I  could  scarcely  forget  it.  You  laid  it  on  the 
counter  between  us.  And  it  was  heavy  with 
money,"  said  Jess. 

"  Now,  wait !  "  cried  Griff,  interposing,  while 
old  Chumley  listened  eagerly,  his  little  eyes  snap- 
ping. "  Did  you  set  your  umbrella  aside  without 
opening,  it,  Miss  Morse?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  repeated  Jess. 

"  And  you  had  it  hanging  by  the  hooked  handle 
on  the  edge  of  the  counter  right  beside  this  lady, 
didn't  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  did." 

"  I  saw  it.  It's  just  like  a  story  book ! " 
laughed  Griff.  "Get  the  umbrella,  Miss  Morse. 
I  knew  it  would  be  all  right " 

"  I  am  not  convinced  that  it  is  '  all  right,'  as 
you  say,  young  man,"  spoke  Mrs.  Prentice,  eye- 
ing Jess's  flushed  face,  suspiciously. 

"  Get  it  from  behind  the  door  there,  Griff," 


WHAT   MR.   CHUM  LEY  NEEDED  27 

said  the  girl,  hurriedly.  She,  too,  had  heard  of 
such  an  incident  as  this.  Perhaps  the  purse  had 
been  knocked  from  the  counter  into  her  open 
umbrella.  But  suppose  it  was  not  there? 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHAT   MRS.   PRENTICE  NEEDED 

"  HERE  it  is !  here's  the  umbrella !  "  squeaked 
the  officious  Mr.  Chumley,  coming  out  from  be- 
hind the  entry  door,  where  he  had  been  listening. 

All  three  of  them — Jess,  Griff,  and  the  excited 
loser  of  the  purse — reached  for  the  umbrella;  but 
Griff  was  the  first. 

"Hold  on!"  said  he  to  the  landlord.  "Let 
me  have  that,  sir.  The  purse  was  lost  in  our 
store.  We're  just  as  much  interested  in  the  mat- 
ter as  anybody." 

"  I  fail  to  see  that,  young  man,"  said  Mrs. 
Prentice,  tartly. 

She  was  not  naturally  of  a  mean  disposition; 
but  she  was  excited,  and  the  explanation  Griff 
had  given  her  of  the  loss  of  the  purse  had  seemed 
to  her  unimaginative  mind  "  far-fetched,"  to  say 
the  least. 

The  boy  half  opened  the  umbrella  and  turned 
it  over.  Crash  to  the  floor  fell  the  purse,  and 
it  snapped  open  as  it  landed.  Out  upon  the  lino- 

28 


WHAT  MRS.  PRENTICE  NEEDED  29 

leum  rolled  the  glistening  coins — several  of  them 
gold  pieces — that  Jess  had  noted  so  greedily  in 
the  egg  store. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you?  "  cried  Griff,  looking 
at  Mrs.  Prentice. 

That  lady  only  exclaimed  "  Oh !  "  very  loudly 
and  looked  aghast  at  the  rolling  coins.  Jess  half 
stooped  to  gather  up  the  scattered  money.  Then 
she  thought  better  of  it  and  straightened  up, 
looking  straight  into  the  face  of  the  owner  of 
the  purse. 

But  old  Mr.  Chumley  could  not  stand  the  lack 
of  interest  the  others  seemed  to  show  in  what — 
to  him — was  the  phase  of  particular  importance 
in  the  whole  affair.  There  was  real  money  roll- 
ing all  over  the  Widow  Morse's  kitchen.  He 
went  down  on  his  rheumatic  old  knees  and 
scrambled  for  it.  Mr.  Chumley  worshipped 
money,  anyway,  and  this  was  a  worshipper's 
rightful  attitude. 

"  My,  my,  my !  "  he  kept  repeating.  "  How 
careless ! " 

But  Mrs.  Prentice's  expression  of  countenance 
was  swiftly  changing.  She  flushed  deeply — 
much  more  deeply  than  had  Jess ;  then  she  paled. 
She  picked  up  Mr.  Chumley's  phrase,  although 
she  allowed  the  old  man  to  pick  up  the  money. 

"  I  certainly  have  been  careless,"  she  said.   "  I 


30    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

— I  must  have  nudged  that  purse  off  the  counter 

with  my  elbow.  I — I My  dear  girl !  will  you 

forgive  me  ?  " 

She  stepped  forward  and  opened  her  arms  to 
Jess.  She  was  not  only  a  well  dressed  lady,  but 
she  was  a  handsome  one,  and  her  smile,  when  she 
chose  to  allow  it  to  appear,  was  winning.  The 
anger  and  indignation  Jess  had  felt  began  to  melt 
before  this  apology  and  the  lady's  frank  man- 
ner. 

"  I — I  suppose  it  was  a  natural  mistake," 
stammered  Jess. 

"  Not  if  she'd  known  you,  Miss  Jess,"  Griff 
said,  quite  sharply  for  him.  "  Nobody  who  knew 
you  or  your  mother  would  have  accused  you  of 
taking  a  penny's  worth  that  didn't  rightfully  be- 
long to  you." 

Jess,  whose  heart  was  still  sore  from  the  blow 
she  had  received  at  Mr.  Closewick's  grocery, 
thought  this  was  very  kind  of  Griff.  And  they 
owed  his  father,  too!  If  there  were  tears  stand- 
ing in  her  eyes  they  were  tears  of  gratitude. 

"You  see,  my  dear,"  said  the  lady,  her  voice 
very  pleasant  indeed  now,  "  I  did  not  know  you 
as  well  as  young  Mr.  Vandergriff  seems  to." 

"  We — we  go  to  school  together,"  explained 
Jess,  weakly,  and  found  herself  drawn  into  the 
arms  of  the  lady. 


WHAT  MRS.  PRENTICE  NEEDED  31 

Mr.  Chumley  rose  up  with  a  grunt  and  a 
groan;  he  had  the  purse  and  all  the  coins. 

"  Very  careless!  very  careless!"  he  repeated. 
"And  here  is  nearly  a  hundred  dollars,  madam. 
Think  of  carelessly  carrying  a  hundred  dollars  in 
a  silly  purse  like  that!  It  is  astonishing " 

Mrs.  Prentice  had  implanted  a  soft  little  kiss 
on  Jess's  forehead  and  shaken  her  a  little  play- 
fully by  both  shoulders. 

"  Don't  you  bear  malice,  my  dear,"  she  whis- 
pered. Then  she  turned  briefly  to  the  old  man. 

"  You're  very  kind,  I'm  sure,"  she  said,  taking 
the  purse  into  which  Mr.  Chumley  had  crammed 
the  money.  "  Thank  you." 

"  Money  comes  too  hard  for  folks  to  scatter 
it  around,"  complained  the  landlord. 

Mrs.  Prentice  seemed  to  be  much  amused.  "  I 
should  be  more  careful,  I  suppose.  I  presume, 
now,  I  ought  to  count  it  to  see  if — if  you  gath- 
ered it  all  up,  sir?  "  she  added,  her  eyes  dancing. 

A  little  breath  of  red  crept  into  the  withered 
cheeks  of  the  miserly  old  man.  "  Well,  well !  " 
he  ejaculated.  "  One  can't  be  too  careful." 

"  I  presume  not,"  said  the  lady. 

"  And  if  the  gal  had  known  the  money  was 
there  she  might  have  been  tempted,  ye  see." 

Jess  flushed  again  and  Griff  looked  angry ;  but 
Mrs.  Prentice  said,  coolly : 


32    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

tf  Were  you  tempted,  sir?  Perhaps  I  had  bet- 
ter count  my  money,  after  all?" 

"  Ahem !  ahem !  "  coughed  the  old  gentleman. 
"  Perhaps  you  don't  know  who  I  am  ?  There  is 
a  vast  difference  between  me — my  condition,  I 
mean — and  the  gal  and  her  mother." 

"  Ah !  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Pren- 
tice, and  then  turned  her  back  upon  him.  "  I 
should  like  to  know  you  better,  my  dear — and 
your  mother.  I  hope  you  will  show  me  that  I 
am  really  forgiven  by  allowing  me  to  call  some 

day Oh !  I  couldn't  face  your  mother  now.  I 

know  just  how  I  would  feel  myself  if  I  had  a 
daughter  who  had  been  accused  as  I  accused  you. 
I  certainly  need  to  take  care — as  our  friend  here 
says." 

"  I  am  sure  mother  would  be  pleased  to  meet 
you,"  stammered  Jess. 

"  You  know,  I  am  Mrs.  Prentice.  My 
brother-in-law,  Patrick  Sarsfield  Prentice,  is  edi- 
tor and  proprietor  of  the  Centerport  Courier.'' 

Jess's  interest  was  doubly  aroused  now.  So 
this  was  the  rich  Mrs.  Prentice,  whom  they  said 
really  backed  Centerport's  newest  venture  in  the 
newspaper  field? 

"  My  mother  has  met  Mr.  Prentice — your 
brother-in-law,"  she  said,  diffidently.  "You 
know,  mother  writes.  She  is  Mary  Morse." 


WHAT  MRS.  PRENTICE  NEEDED 


33 


"  Ah,  yes,"  said  the  lady,  preparing  to  follow 
Griff  out.  "  I  am  really  glad  to  have  known  you 
— but  I  am  sorry  we  began  our  acquaintance  so 
unfortunately." 

"  That — that  is  all  right,  Mrs.  Prentice,"  re- 
turned the  girl. 

Griff  called  back  goodnight  to  her  over  his 
shoulder.  And  at  the  gate  he  parted  from  the 
lady  whose  carelessness  had  made  all  the  trouble. 

"  That's  just  what  I  told  you,  Mrs.  Prentice," 
he  said.  "  They're  all  right  folks,  those  Morses. 
Yes,  Mrs.  Prentice,  I'll  remember  to  send  all 
those  things  you  ordered  over  in  the  morning — 
first  delivery,"  and  he  went  off,  whistling. 


CHAPTER  V 

THERE  IS  A  GENERAL  NEED 

MRS  PRENTICE  would  have  turned  away  from 
the  gate  of  the  Morse  cottage  and  gone  her  home- 
ward way,  too,  had  she  not  heard  a  cackling  little 
"  ahem !  "  behind  her.  There  was  the  wizened 
Mr.  Chumley  right  on  her  heels. 

"Very  fortunate  escape — very  fortunate  es- 
cape, indeed,"  said  the  landlord. 

"  It  was,"  agreed  the  repentant  lady,  "  I 
might  have  gone  farther  and  done  much  worse  in 
my  excitement." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he.  "  I  mean  it  was  fortunate 
for  the  girl  —  and  her  mother.  Of  course, 
they've  got  nothing,  and  had  the  money  really 
been  missing  it  would  have  looked  bad." 

Mrs.  Prentice  eyed  him  in  a  way  that  would 
have  made  a  person  with  a  thinner  skin  writhe  a 
little.  But  Mr.  Chumley's  feelings  were  not 
easily  -hurt. 

"  You  evidently  know  all  about  those  people  ?  " 
said  the  lady,  bruskly. 

"  Oh,  yes.  They've  been  my  tenants  for  some 
34 


THERE  IS  A  GENERAL  NEED  35 

years.  But  rents  are  going  up  in  this  neighbor- 
hood and Well,  I  can  get  a  much  more  sat- 
isfactory tenant." 

'''  You  have  been  warning  them  out  of  the  cot- 
tage?" asked  Mrs.  Prentice,  quickly. 

"  Not  just  that,"  said  the  old  man,  rubbing  his 
hands  together  as  though  he  had  an  imaginary 
cake  of  soap  between  them  and  was  busily  wash- 
ing the  Morse  affair  from  his  palms.  "  You  see, 
I've  told  them  I  shall  be  obliged  to  increase  their 
rent  at  New  Year's." 

"  What  do  they  pay  you  now  ?  " 

Mr.  Chumley  told  her  frankly.  He  wasn't 
ashamed  of  what  he  took  for  the  renting  of  that 
particular  piece  of  property.  In  a  business  way, 
he  was  doing  very  well,  and  business-  was  all  that 
mattered  with  Mr.  Chumley. 

"  But  that's  better  than  /  can  get  for  the  same 
sort  of  a  cottage  in  this  very  vicinity,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Prentice. 

"  Ah !  these  agents !  "  groaned  Mr.  Chumley, 
shaking  his  head.  "  They  never  will  do  as  well 
as  they  should  for  an  owner.  I  found  that  out 
long  ago.  If  I  was  a  younger  man,  Mrs.  Pren- 
tice, I  would  take  hold  of  your  property  and  get 
you  twenty-five  per  cent,  more  out  of  it." 

"  Perhaps,"  commented  the  lady.  "  And  you 
intend  to  raise  the  rent  on  these  people  ?  " 


36    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  I  have  done  so.  Three  dollars.  I  can  get 
it.  Besides,  a  woman  alone  ain't  good  pay,"  said 
Chumley.  "And  they're  likely  to  fall  behind 
any  time  in  the  rent.  Most  uncertain  in- 
come  " 

"Is  it  true  that  Mrs.  Morse  writes  for  a  liv- 
ing?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  sort  of  a  livin'  she  makes. 
Foolish  business.  She'd  better  take  in  washing, 
or  go  out  to  day's  work — that's  what  she'd  better 
do,"  snarled  the  old  man.  "  This  messin'  with 
pen,  ink,  an'  a  typewriter  an'  thinkin'  she  can 
buy  pork  an'  pertaters  on  the  proceeds " 

"  Perhaps  she  doesn't  care  for  pork  and  pota- 
toes, my  friend,"  laughed  the  lady,  eyeing  Mr. 
Chumley  whimsically. 

But  a  flush  had  crept  into  the  old  man's  with- 
ered cheek  again.  He  was  on  his  hobby  and  he 
rode  it  hard. 

"  Poor  folks  ain't  no  business  to  have  finicky 
idees,  or  tastes,"  he  declared.  "  They  gotter 
work.  That's  what  they  was  put  in  the  world 
for — to  work.  There's  too  many  of  'em  trying 
to  keep  their  hands  clean,  an'  livin'  above  their 
means.  Mary  Morse  is  a  good,  strong,  hearty 
woman.  She'd  ought  to  do  something  useful 
with  her  hands  instead  of  doing  silly  things  with 
her  mind." 


THERE  IS  A  GENERAL  HEED  37 

"  So  she  writes  silly  things?" 

"  Stories !  Not  a  word  of  truth  in  'em,  I 
vum!  I  read  one  of  'em  once,"  declared  Mr. 
Chumley.  "  Widder  Morse  wants  to  ape  these 
well-to-do  folks  that  live  'tothcr  end  o'  Whiffle 
Street.  Keeps  her  gal  in  high  school  when  she'd 
ought  to  be  in  a  store  or  a  factory,  earnin'  her 
keep.  She's  big  enough." 

"  Do  you  think  that's  a  good  way  to  bring  up 
girls — letting  them  go  to  work  so  early  in  life?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  old  man,  in  wonder. 
"  They  kin  work  cheap  and  it  helps  trade.  Too 
much  schooiin'  is  bad  for  gals.  They  don't  need 
it,  anyway.  And  all  the  fal-lals  and  di-does  they 
1'arn  'em  in  high  school  now  doesn't  amount  to 
a  row  of  pins  in  practical  life.  No,  ma'am!  " 

"  But  do  these  Morses  have  such  a  hard  time 
getting  along?  "  asked  Mrs.  Prentice,  trying  to 
bring  the  gossipy  old  gentleman  back  to  the  main 
subject. 

"  They  don't  meet  their  bills  prompt,"  snapped 
the  landlord.  "  Now !  here  I  was  in  the  house 
to-night.  I  suggested  that  the  gal  pay  the  rent 
for  December ;  it'll  be  due  in  a  day  or  two.  And 
she  didn't  have  it.  They're  often  late  with  it. 
I  have  to  come  two  or  three  times  before  I  get 
it,  some  months.  And  I  hear  they  owe  the 
tradesmen  a  good  deal." 


38    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  They  are  really  in  need  of  sympathy  and 
help,  then?" 

"  How's  that?  "  demanded  Mr.  Chumley,  with 
his  cupped  hand  to  his  ear  as  though  he  could 
not  believe  his  own  hearing. 

The  lady  repeated  her  remark. 

"  There  you  go !  You're  another  of  them  folks 
that  waste  their  substance.  I  could  see  that  by 
your  keerless  handlin'  of  money,"  croaked  Mr. 
Chumley.  "  The  Widder  Morse  don't  need  help 
— she  needs  sense,  I  tell  ye." 

"  And  do  you  know  what  you  need,  Mr.  Chum- 
ley?" asked  the  lady,  suddenly,  and  with  some 
asperity. 

"Heh?" 

"  You  need  charity !  We  all  need  it.  And 
we've  gossiped  enough  about  our  neighbors,  I 
declare!  Good  night,  Mr.  Chumley,"  she  added, 
and  turned  off  through  the  side  street  toward 
her  own  home,  leaving  the  old  man  to  wend  his 
own  way  homeward,  wagging  his  head  and  mut- 
tering discourteous  comments  upon  "  all  fool 
women," 

Mrs.  Prentice  was  a  widow  herself.  But  she 
had  no  mawkish  sentimentality.  She  had  lived 
in  the  world  too  many  years  for  that.  She  was 
not  given  to  charities  of  any  kind.  But  the 
thought  of  Jess  Morse  and  her  widowed  mother 


THERE  IS  A  GENERAL  NEED  39 

clung  to  her  mind  like  a  limpet  to  a  rock — even 
after  she  had  dismissed  her  maid  that  night  and 
retired. 

"  Just  think !  "  she  muttered,  with  her  head  on 
the  pillow.  "If  that  purse  had  been  really  lost  I 
might  have  made  that  young  girl  a  lot  of  trouble 
— and  her  mother.  And  she  is  such  a  frank, 
courageous  little  thing! 

"  We  do  need  more  charity — the  right  kind. 
Somehow — yes — I  must  do  something  to  help 
that  gfirl." 


CHAPTER  VI 

IT  ALL  COMES  OUT 

BEFORE  morning  old  Jack  Frost  snapped  his 
fingers  and  the  whole  world  was  encased  in  ice. 
The  sidewalks  were  a  glare,  the  trees,  and  bushes, 
to  their  tiniest  twig,  were  as  brittle  as  icicles,  and 
a  thin  white  blanket  had  been  laid  upon  the  lawns 
along  Whiffle  Street. 

It  was  the  first  really  cold  snap  of  winter. 
Chet  Belding  came  clumping  down  to  breakfast 
that  Saturday  morning. 

"  Skating  shoes !  "  exclaimed  his  sister,  Laura. 
"What  for,  Sir  Knight?" 

"  I  bet  a  feller  can  skate  in  the  street — on  the 
sidewalk — almost  anywhere  this  morning,"  de- 
clared Chet,  with  enthusiasm. 

"You  don't  mean  to  try  it?"  cried  Laura. 

"  I'll  eat  my  honorable  grandmother's  hat  if  I 
don't " 

"Chetwood!" 

The  horrified  ejaculation  came  from  behind 
the  coffee  percolator.  Mrs.  Belding  had  been 

40 


IT  ALL   COMES  OUT  41 

perusing  her  morning  mail.  Mr.  Chetwood 
chuckled,  but  graduated  it  into  a  pronounced 
cough. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ! "  said  Chet,  meekly. 

"  What  kind  of  language  is  this  that  you  bring 
to  our  table?  Your  grandmother  certainly  was 
honorable " 

"  That's  an  imitation  of  the  stilted  expressions 
of  the  Japs  and  Chinks,"  interrupted  Chetwood. 
"  Thought  you'd  like  it.  It's  formal,  abounds  in 
flowery  expressions,  and  may  not  be  hastened. 
Quotation  from  Old  Dimple/'  he  added,  sotto 
voce. 

"  Pi-ease  leave  your  grandmother  out  of  it," 
said  Mrs.  Belding,  severely.  "  And  if  you  mean 
Professor  Dimp,  your  teacher  at  Central  High, 
do  not  call  him  '  Old  Dimple '  in  my  presence," 
which  showed  that  Mother  Belding's  hearing  was 
pretty  acute. 

"  Anyhow,"  said  Chet,  "  I'm  going  to  try  the 
ice  after  breakfast.  Going  to  get  Lance  and 
we'll  have  some  fun.  Better  get  your  skates, 
Laura." 

"  No.  I'm  going  to  the  store  with  father — 
if  we  don't  both  tumble  down  and  roll  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hill  at  Market  Street,  like  Jack  and 
Jill,"  laughed  his  sister. 

"  Teams  can't  get  over  the  asphalt  this  morn- 


42    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

ing,"  said  her  brother.  "  We  can  coast  clear  to 
the  elbow,  I  bet  you." 

He  hurried  through  his  breakfast  and  some 
time  after  Laura  and  her  father  started  for  the 
jewelry  store,  in  which  the  girl  had  certain  Sat- 
urday morning  tasks  to  perform,  the  voices  of 
Chet  and  his  friends  awoke  the  echoes  of  the 
street  as  they  skated  on  the  asphalt. 

Whiffle  Street  was  an  easy  slope  toward  the 
elbow,  where  Jess  Morse  and  her  mother  lived. 
Although  the  keen  wind  blew  pretty  strongly 
right  up  the  hill,  when  Laura  and  her  father 
started  for  the  store  the  boys  were  holding  hands 
and  in  a  line  that  swept  the  street  from  curb  to 
curb,  sailed  gaily  down  the  hill  upon  their 
skates. 

"  That's  fun ! "  exclaimed  Laura,  her  cheeks 
rosy  with  the  wind,  and  her  eyes  sparkling. 

"It's  just  like  life,"  said  her  father.  "It's 
easy  going  down  hill;  but  see  what  a  pull  it  is 
to  get  up  again,"  for  Chet  and  his  comrades  had 
then  begun  the  homeward  skate. 

Lance  Darby,  a  fair-haired,  rosy-cheeked  lad, 
who  was  Chet's  particular  chum,  was  ahead 
and  he  came,  puffingly,  to  a  stop  just  before 
Laura. 

"  This  is  great — if  it  wasn't  for  the  *  getting 
back  again/  Good-morning,  Mr.  Beiding." 


IT  ALL  COMES  OUT  43 

"Why  don't  you  boys  rig  something  to  tow 
you  up  the  hill?"  asked  Laura,  laughing,  and 
half  hiding  her  face  in  her  muff. 

"Huh!"  ejaculated  her  brother,  coming  up, 
too.  "  How'd  we  rig  it,  Sis?  " 

"  Come  on,  Mother  Wit ! "  laughed  Lance. 
"  You  tell  us." 

"  Why — I  declare,  Chet's  got  just  the  thing 
standing  behind  the  door  in  his  den,"  cried  Laura, 
her  eyes  twinkling. 

"What?"  cried  Chet.  "You're  fooling  us. 
Laura.  My  snowshoes " 

"  Not  them,"  laughed  Laura,  preparing  to  gc 
on  with  her  father. 

"  I  know !  "  shouted  Lance,  slapping  his  chum 
suddenly  on  the  back.  He  was  as  familiar  with 
Chet's  room  as  was  Chet  himself. 

"  Out  with  it,  then !  "  demanded  Chet. 

"  That  big  kite  of  yours.  Wind's  directly  up 
the  hill.  We'll  get  it  and  try  the  scheme.  Oh, 
you  Mother  Wit ! "  shoiited  Lance,  after  Laura. 
"  We're  going  after  the  kite." 

And  that  suggestion  of  Laura's  was  the  be- 
ginning of  Chet  and  Lance  Darby's  "mfle-a- 
minute  ice-boat " — but  more  of  that  wonderful 
invention  later. 

Laura  was  halted  again  before  she  reached 
Market  Street,  and  her  father  went  on  without 


44    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

her,  for  it  was  now  half-past  eight.  Jess  Morse 
waved  to  her  from  a  window,  and  in  a  moment 
came  running  out  in  a  voluminous  checked  apron 
and  a  gay  sweater-coat,  hastily  "  shrugged " 
on. 

"  Where  were  you  last  night  ?  "  cried  Laura. 
"We  missed  you  dreadfully  at  the  M.  O.  R. 
house." 

"I — I  really  couldn't  come,"  said  her  chum, 
hesitating  just  a  little,  for  it  was  hard  not  to 
be  perfectly  frank  with  Laura,  who  was  always 
so  open  and  confidential  with  her.  "  Mother  is 
so  busy — she  worked  half  the  night " 

"  Genius  burns  the  midnight  oil,  eh?  "  laughed 
Laura. 

"Yes,  indeed.  And  now  I'm  about  to  make 
her  toast  and  brew  her  tea,  and  she  will  take  it, 
propped  up  in  bed,  and  read  over  the  work  she 
did  last  night.  Saturdays,  when  I  am  home,  is 
mother's  '  lazy  day.'  She  says  she  feels  quite 
like  a  lady  of  leisure  then." 

"  But  you  should  have  come  to  the  first  big 
reception  of  the  winter,"  complained  her  chum. 

"  Couldn't.  But  I  heard  that  there  was  some- 
thing very  wonderful  going  to  happen,  just  the 
same,"  cried  Jess. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  About  the  prize." 


IT  ALL  COMES  OUT 


45 


"  My  goodness  me !  Somebody  is  a  telltale," 
cried  Laura,  laughing.  "We  were  not  going  to 
spread  the  news  until  Monday  morning." 

Jess  told  her  how  the  rumor  of  the  prize  had 
come  to  her  ears. 

"  No  use — it's  all  out,  and  all  over  town,  if 
Bobby  Hargrew  got  hold  of  it." 

"  But  what's  Mrs.  Mabel  Kerrick  going  to  give 
the  two  hundred  dollars  for?" 

"  Oh,  Jess !  it's  a  great  scheme,  I  believe — and 
it's  mine,"  said  Laura,  proudly. 

"  But  you  don't  tell  me  what  it  is,"  cried  her 
chum,  impatiently. 

"  It's  to  be  given  for  the  best  play  written  by 
a  Central  High  girl,  between  now  and  the  first 
of  January.  Any  girl  can  compete — even  the 
freshies.  And  then  we'll  produce  it,  and  get 
money  for  the  M.  O.  R.  building  fund." 

"  A  play ! "  gasped  Jess,  her  face  flushing. 

"  That's  it.  And  the  Lockwood  girls  are  go- 
ing to  try  for  it — and  so's  Nell  Agnew.  Will 
you,  Jess?  Just  think  of  two  hundred  dollars! " 

"  I  am  thinking  of  it,"  replied  her  chum.  "  Oh, 
Laura!  I'm  thinking  of  it  all  the  time." 

She  said  it  so  earnestly  that  Laura  stared  at 
her  in  amazement. 

"  My  dear  child ! "  she  cried.  "  Does  two  hun- 
dred dollars  mean  so  much  to  you?  " 


46    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  I — I  can't  tell  you  how  hard  1  want  to  win 
it,"  gasped  Jess. 

"  Well !  I'm  going  to  try  for  it,  too/'  laughed 
Laura,  suddenly,  seizing  her  friend's  arm  and 
giving  it  an  affectionate  squeeze.  "  But  I  do 
hope,  if  I  can't  win  it,  that  you  do!" 

"Thank  you,  Laura!"  replied  her  friend, 
gravely. 

"  And  your  mother's  a  writer — you  must  have 
talent,  too,  for  writing,  Jess." 

"  That  doesn't  follow,  I  guess,"  laughed  Jess. 
"  You  know  that  Si  Jones  talks  like  a  streak  of 
greased  lightning — so  Chet  says,  anyway — but 
his  son,  Phil,  is  a  deaf-mute.  Talent  for  writing 
runs  in  families  the  same  as  wooden  legs." 

"  So  you  do  not  believe  that  even  a  little  re- 
flected glory  bathes  your  path  through  life?" 
chuckled  Laura. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  would  want  to  be  a 
professional  writer  like  mother,"  sighed  Jess,  her 
mind  dwelling  on  the  trouble  they  were  in, 
"  There  is  a  whole  lot  to  it  besides  '  glory/  ' 

"  Well,  if  I  can't  write  the  winning  play,  1 
hope  you  do,  Jess,"  repeated  Laura,  going  on 
after  her  father. 

Jess  returned  to  her  work  indoors.  From  the 
window,  after  a  little,  she  caught  sight  of  a 
whole  string  of  boys  sliding  up  the  hill  of  Whiffle 


IT  ALL  COMES  OUT  47 

Street  on  their  skates,  the  big  kite  which  Chet 
and  Lance  had  raised  supplying  the  motive 
power. 

Chet  beckoned  her  out  to  have  a  part  in  the 
fun;  but  much  more  serious  matters  filled  Jess 
Morse's  mind.  When  her  mother  finally  arose, 
and  folded  and  sealed  and  addressed  the  packet 
containing  her  night's  work,  Jess  had  to  go  out 
and  mail  it. 

"  I  really  believe  that  is  a  good  story,  Jess," 
said  her  mother,  who  was  sanguine  of  tempera- 
ment. She  had  a  childish  faith  in  the  success 
of  every  manuscript  she  sent  out;  and  usually 
when  her  chickens  "  came  home  to  roost "  her 
spirits  withstood  the  shock  admirably. 

"  Now,  don't  forget  the  list  of  things  you  were 
to  get  at  Mr.  Closewick's,"  added  Mrs.  Morse. 
Jess  had  kept  her  evening's  troubles  strictly  to 
herself.  "  I  believe  he  sent  in  a  bill,  but  you 
tell  him  how  it  is;  we'll  have  money  in  a  day 
or  two." 

"But,  Mother,  we  owe  other  stores,  too," 
murmured  Jess. 

"  I  know  it,  child.    But  don't  remind  me " 

"  And  the  rent  will  be  due.  Mr.  Chumky  was 
here  last  night " 

"  Not  for  his  rent  so  soon  ?  "  cried  the  irre- 
sponsible lady. 


48    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  But  he  is  going  to  raise  our  rent — three  dol« 
lars  more  after  January  first." 

"Oh,  how  mean  of  him!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Morse. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  are  going  to  get  it, 
Mother,"  said  Jess,  worriedly. 

"  Well,  that's  true.  But  we've  got  another 
month  before  we  need  to  cross  that  bridge." 

That  was  Mrs.  Morse's  way.  Perhaps  it  was 
as  well  that  she  allowed  such  responsibilities  to 
slip  past  her  like  water  running  off  the  feathers 
of  a  duck. 

"  And  if  Mr.  Closewick  shouldn't  want  to— to 
trust  us  any  longer,  Mother  ?  "  suggested  Jess. 
That  was  as  near  as  she  could  get  to  telling  the 
good  lady  what  had  really  happened  the  night 
before. 

"Why!  that  would  be  most  mortifying.  He 
won't  do  it,  though.  But  if  he  does,  we'll  imme- 
diately begin  trading  elsewhere.  I  don't  really 
think  Mr.  Closewick  always  gives  us  good 
weight,  at  that!" 

Jess  could  only  sigh.  It  was  always  the  way. 
Mrs.  Morse  saw  things  from  a  most  surprising 
angle.  She  was  just  as  honest — intentionally — 
as  she  could  be,  but  the  ethics  of  business  dealing 
were  not  quite  straight  in  her  mind. 

And  something  must  be  done  this  very  day  to 


IT  ALL  COMES  OUT  49 

put  food  in  the  larder.  What  little  Jess  had 
brought  in  from  Mr.  Vandegriff's  store  would 
not  last  them  over  Sunday.  And  her  mother 
seemed  to  think  that  everybody  else  would  be 
just  as  sanguine  ot  her  getting  a  check  as  she 
was  herself. 

"I  do  wish  you  had  been  able  to  get  steady 
work  with  the  Courier"  spoke  Jess,  as  she  pre- 
pared to  go  out. 

"That  would  have  been  nice/'  admitted  her 
mother.  "  And  I  am  in  a  position  to  know  a 
good  deal  of  what  goes  on  socially  on  the  Hill. 
I  am  welcome  in  the  homes  of  the  very  best  peo- 
ple, for  your  father's  sake,  Jess.  He  was  a  very 
fine  man,  indeed." 

'*  And  for  your  own  sake,  too,  Mamma ! " 
cried  Jess,  who  was  really,  after  all,  very  proud 
of  her  mother's  talent 

"  It  would  have  been  nice,"  repeated  Mrs. 
Morse.  "  And  certainly  the  Courier  is  not  cov- 
ering the  Hill  as  well  as  might  be.  I  pointed 
that  out  to  Mr.  Prentice;  but  he  is  limited  in 
expenditures,  I  suppose,  the  paper  being  a  new 
venture." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  the  girl's  tongue  to  tell 
her  mother  of  the  visit  of  Mr.  Prentice's  sister- 
in-law  the  evening  before.  But  why  disturb  her 
mother's  mind  with  all  that  trouble?  So  she 


50    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

said  nothing,  kissed  her  fondly,  and  sallied  forth 
to  beard  in  their  lairs  "  the  butcher,  the  baker, 
and  the  candlestick  maker."  And,  truly,  there 
were  few  girls  in  Centerport  that  day  with 
greater  lions  in  their  way  than  those  in  the  path 
of  Jess  Morse 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    HAND    HELD    OUT 

WHEN  Jess  came  out  of  the  house  there  was 
a  group  of  her  schoolmates — and  not  all  of  them 
boys — at  the  foot  of  the  Whiffle  Street  hill.  Be- 
ing towed  by  Chet's  big  kite  had  become  a  game 
that  all  hands  wanted  to  try.  But  the  sun  was 
getting  warmer  and  the  icy  street  would  soon  be 
slushy  and  the  skates  would  cut  through. 

"  I've  had  enough,"  said  Bobby  Hargrew,  re- 
moving her  skates  when  she  spied  Jess..  "The 
policeman  has  warned  us  once,  and  he'll  be  rnad 
next  time  he  comes  around  if  we're  here  still." 

"  Better  get  your  skates,  Jess,  and  try  it  just 
once,"  urged  Chet  Belding,  who  was  very  partial 
to  his  sister's  closet  chum. 

"  I  can't,  Chet,"  replied  Jess.  "  I  must  do 
my  Saturday's  marketing." 

"Hullo!  here's  Short  and  Long!"  cried 
Bobby,  as  a  very  short  boy  with  very  brisk  legs 
came  sliding  down  the  hill  with  a  big  bundle  un- 
der his  arm. 


52    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Billy  Long  was  an  industrious  youngster  who 
only  allowed  himself  leisure  to  keep  up  in  ath- 
letics after  school  hours,  because  he  liked  to  earn 
something  toward  his  family's  support. 

"  Stop  and  try  a  ride,  Billy,"  urged  Lance 
Darby,  holding  the  cord  of  the  tugging  kite. 

"  Can't.     Going  on  an  errand." 

"Hey,  Billy!  how's  your  dyspepsia?"  de- 
manded another  of  the  boys. 

Billy  grinned.     Bobby  exclaimed: 

"  Now,  don't  tell  me  that  Short  and  Long  ever 
has  trouble  with  his  digestion — I  won't  believe 
it!" 

"  He  sure  had  a  bad  case  of  it  yesterday," 
drawled  Chet  Belding.  "  At  least,  so  Mr.  Sharp 
said.  Billy  spelled  it  with  an  '  i  V 

"Let  me  use  your  knife  a  minute,  please?" 
asked  Bobby,  who  was  still  struggling  with  a 
refractory  strap.  "  No !  just  toss  it  to  me." 

"That's  all  right,"  returned  the  small  boy, 
with  a  grin,  as  he  walked  over  and  carefully 
handed  Bobby  the  knife.  "  I  don't  take  any 
chances  with  girls  in  throwing,  or  catching.  All 
my  sister  can  do  is  to  throw  a  fit,  or  catch  a 
cold!" 

"Ow!  isn't  that  a  wicked  statement?"  cried 
Bobby.  "  You  know  it  isn't  so.  But  you're 
right  down  ignorant,  Billy.  You're  just  as  bad 


THE  HAND  HELD   OUT  53 

as  Postscript  was  in  Gee  Gee's  class  one  day  this 
week." 

"Who's  'Postscript'?"  demanded  Lance. 
"  That's  a  new  one  on  me." 

"  Why,*'  said  Bobby,  her  black  eyes  twinkling, 
'I  mean  Adeline  Moore.  That's  a  postscript, 
isn't  it?" 

"  What  happened  to  Addie  ?  "  asked  Jess,  as 
the  others  laughed. 

"  Why,  she  got  befuddled  in  reciting  some- 
thing about  an  Indian  uprising  that  came  in  our 
American  History  hour.  It's  all  review  stuff, 
you  know. 

" '  What  is  it  that  you  call  an  Indian  woman, 
Adeline?'  Gee  Gee  asked,  real  sharp. 

"  And  Addie  jumped,  and  stammered,  and  fin- 
ally said: 

" '  A  squaw,  please,  Miss  Carrington.' 

" '  And  what  do  you  call  her  baby,  then  ? ' 
snapped  Gee  Gee. 

"  '  A — a  squawker,'  says  Addie,  and  the  poor 
thing  got  a  black  mark  for  it.  Wasn't  that 
mean  ?  " 

"  Miss  Grace  G.  Carrington  was  in  one  of  her 
moods,"  observed  Chet,  when  the  laugh  had  sub- 
sided. 

"  She's  subject  to  moods,"  Lance  drawled. 

"  No,    she's    not ! "    cried    Bobby    Hargrew. 


54    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE] 

"  She  only  had  one  mood — the  imperative — and 
we  girls  are  all  subject  to  that,"  and  she  sighed, 
for  Bobby  was  frequently  in  trouble  with  the 
very  strict  assistant  principal  of  Central  High 
whom  she  disrespectfully  referred  to  as  "  Gee 
Gee." 

Jess  and  her  friend  had  left  the  others  now 
and  were  approaching  Market  Street.  Like 
everybody  else  on  the  walks,  they  had  to  be  care- 
ful how  they  stepped,  and  it  was  with  many  a 
laugh  and  gibe  that  Bobby  Hargrew  beguiled 
the  way.  Jess,  however,  was  serious  once  more. 

"  Are  you  really  going  in  for  that  prize  Mrs. 
Kerrick  is  going  to  put  up  for  us  ?  "  demanded 
Bobby. 

"Do  you  know  what  it's  for?  " 

"  No — -I  haven't  heard  that,"  said  the  younger 
girl.  "  But  for  two  hundred  dollars  I'd  learn 
tatting — or  darn  socks.  Daddy  says  I  ought  to 
learn  to  darn  his.  What's  it  all  about,  anyway? 
I  suppose  Laura  knows  ?  " 

"  Yes.  It's  a  play.  The  girl  who  writes  the 
best  one,  that  can  be  acted  by  us  boys  and  girls 
of  Central  High,  is  to  get  the  prize." 

"Gee!  won't  that  be  nuts  for  Miss  Gould?" 
cried  Bobby.  "  You  know,  she  tried  us  out  in 
blank  verse  the  other  day,  and  I  made  a  hit. 
My  stately  lines  were  spoken  of  with  commen- 


THE   HAND   HELD   OUT  55 

dation.  And  when  she  told  us  to  bring  in  a 
rhyme,  or  poetry — whichever  we  had  the  cour- 
age to  call  it — I  wanted  to  read  mine  out  loud. 
But  she  wouldn't  let  me.  She  said  she  had  not 
intended  to  start  a  school  for  humorous  poets." 

"What  did  you  hand  in?"  asked  Jess,  smil- 
ing. 

"  Want  to  hear  it?  "  cried  Bobby,  eagerly,  dig- 
ging into  her  pocket  which — like  a  boy's — was 
always  filled  with  a  conglomeration  of  articles. 
"Listen  here!"  she  added,  drawing  forth  a 
crumpled  paper.  "  This  is  called  *  Such  is  Life  ' 
and  really,  I  was  hurt  that  Miss  Gould  considered 
it  so  lightly,"  and  she  began  to  read  at  once : 

" '  William   Wright   was   often   wrong 

And  Thomas  Goode  was  bad; 
While  Griffith  Smiley,  odd  to  state, 

Was  almost  always  sad. 
Jedediah  Rich  was  very  poor, 

While  Ozias  Poor  was  rich, 
And  Eliphalet  Q.   Carpenter 

Earned  his  living  digging  ditch. 
Tom  White  was  black  Jim  Black  was  white, 

And  Jose  Manuel  Green  was  brown; 
While  Ching  Ling  Blu  was  yellow, 

As  was  known  all  over  town!' 

I'd  have  made  more  of  it,"  added  Bobby,  "  only 
Miss  Gould  didn't  seem  to  care  for  that  kind  of 
poetry.  And  I  suppose  if  I  tried  my  hand  at  a 
play  that  I  would  be  unable  to  hit  the  popular 
taste,"  and  she  sighed. 


56    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  I  guess  they  won't  demand  verse  from  us 
in  this  play,"  giggled  Jess.  "  And  that  is  most 
atrocious,  Bobby." 

"Think  so?"  returned  her  friend,  her  eyes 
twink/ing.  "And  you'll  do  a  whole  lot  better 
when  it  comes  to  writing  your  own  play,  I 
s'pose?" 

"  It  won't  be  in  verse — blank,  or  otherwise," 
admitted  Jess. 

"  You  really  are  going  to  try  for  it?  " 

"Why,  Bobby,  I'd  love  to  win  that  two  hun- 
dred dollars.  I  don't  suppose  I  can.  All  the 
girls  will  try,  I  expect,  and  Laura,  or  Nell  Ag- 
new,  will  get  it.  But  I  want  that  two  hundred 
dollars  worse  than  I  ever  wanted  anything  in  my 
life!" 

She  spoke  so  earnestly  that  Bobby  was  im- 
pressed. The  latter  glanced  at  her  sidewise  and. 
a  shrewd  little  smile  hovered  about  her  lips  for  a 
moment,  which  Jess  did  not  observe. 

"  Where  are  you  bound  for,  Jess?  "  she  asked 
abruptly. 

"  Marketing." 

"You  trade  at  Heuffler's  market,  don't  you? 
That's  right  around  the  corner  from  father's 
store.  Why  don't  you  ever  patronize  our  place 
for  groceries.  I' ID  drumming1  up  trade."  said 
Bobby,  grinning. 


THE   HAND   HELD    OUT  57 

"  I  guess  our  trade  wouldn't  amount  to  much," 
said  Jess,  flushing  a  little. 

"  '  Every  little  bit  added  to  what  you've  got 
makes  just  a  little  bit  more,'  "  quoted  Bobby. 
"  And  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Thomas  Hargrew 
keeps  first-class  goods  and  only  asks  a  fair 
profit." 

Jess  laughed;  but  she  caught  at  the  straw  held 
out  to  her,  too.  She  knew  it  would  be  useless 
to  go  to  Mr.  Closewick's,  where  they  usually 
traded.  Was  it  honest  to  try  and  obtain  credit 
at  another  grocery? 

"  I  am  afraid  your  father  wouldn't  welcome 
me  as  a  customer,"  said  Jess,  gravely.  "  Ours 
isn't  always  a  cash  trade.  Mother's  money 
comes  so  very  irregular  that  we  have  to  run  a 
bill  at  the  grocery  and  the  market  and  other 
places." 

"  Come  on  and  give  us  a  sample  order,"  urged 
Bobby.  "  Father  will  be  glad  to  get  another 
book  account.  Now,  if  you  were  running  a 
store  I'd  patronize  it!  We  Central  High  girls 
ought  to  work  together — just  like  a  lodge.  Come 
on." 

She  fairly  dragged  Jess  by  the  hand  into  the 
store  on  Market  Street,  over  the  door  of  which 
Mr.  Hargrew's  name  was  displayed.  The  clerks 
were  busy  at  the  moment,  but  Mr.  Hargrew  was 


58    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

at  his  desk  in  the  corner.  Bobby  ran  to  him  and 
whispered  quickly: 

"  Here  she  is,  Father.  You  remember  what 
that  Mrs.  Brown  said  last  night  about  old  Close- 
wick  refusing  her  credit  after  her  mother  had 
traded  there  so  long.  And  I  am  sure  Jess  is  in 
trouble  and  needs  help.  Do  wait  on  her, 
Father." 

"If  you  say  so,  Bob,"  returned  the  big  man, 
smiling  down  upon  the  girl  who,  he  often  said, 
"  was  as  good  as  any  boy."  "  You'll  have  to 
come  into  this  store  and  share  the  business  when 
you  get  older;  and  you  might  as  well  learn  to 
judge  customers  now.  And,  if  they  need 
help " 

He  came  out  to  Jess  Morse  immediately,  smil- 
ing and  bowing  like  the  suave  storekeeper  he 
was. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Miss.  What  can  we  do 
for  you  this  morning?  " 

"  Why — why,"  stammered  Jess,  "  Bobby 
urged  me  to  come  in;  but,  really,  Mr.  Hargrew, 
it  seems  like  asking  a  big  favor  of  you,  for  we 
have  never  traded  here  much." 

"  We  are  always  glad  to  make  a  new  connec- 
tion," said  the  storekeeper. 

"  But  mother — we  are  obliged  to  ask  for 
credit " 


THE  HAND  HELD   OUT  59 

"  And  that  is  what  /  .have  to  do  very  fre- 
quently myself,"  interposed  Mr.  Hargrew,  still 
smiling.  "  What  is  it  you  wish,  Miss  Morse? 
Your  credit  is  good  here,  I  assure  you.  You 
have  brought  the  very  best  of  reference — my 
daughter's.  Now,  what  is  the  first  article?  " 

Jess  could  have  cried  with  relief !  Somehow 
dhe  felt  that  Bobby  and  her  father  mus;  know  of 
her  need,  yet  not  a  word  or  sign  from  either 
betrayed  that  fact.  And  one  would  scarcely  sus- 
pect harum-scarum  Bobby  Hargrew  of  engin- 
eering such  a  delicate  bit  of  business. 

Nevertheless,  Jess  was  vastly  encouraged  by 
this  incident.  She  went  into  the  meat  shop  and 
purchased  a  small  piece  of  lamb  for  over  Sun- 
day and  Mr.  Heuffler  did  not  ask  her  for  his  bill. 
She  hoped  that  "  something  would  turn  up  "  and 
watched  the  mails  very  eagerly,  hoping  that  a 
fugitive  check  might  come.  But  the  postman 
never  came  near  the  little  cottage  at  the  elbow 
in  Whiffle  Street,  all  that  day. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  RACE  IS  ON 

THERE  was  a  rustle  of  expectancy — upon  the 
girls'  side,  at  least — at  Assembly  on  Monday 
morning.  Rumors  of  the  prize  offered  for  the 
best  play  written  by  a  girl  of  Central  High  had 
aroused  great  interest  and  the  school  eagerly 
awaited  Mr.  Sharp's  brief  remarks  regarding  it. 

"  It  is  not  our  wish,"  said  the  principal,  in  the 
course  of  his  speech,  "  to  restrict  the  contestants 
in  their  choice  of  subjects,  or  in  methods  of 
treatment.  The  play  may  be  pure  comedy, 
comedy-drama,  tragedy — even  farce — or  melo- 
drama. Miss  Gould  will  confine  her  lectures 
this  week  in  English  to  the  discussion  of  plays 
and  play-making.  Candidates  for  fame — and 
for  Mrs.  Kerrick's  very  handsome  prize — may 
learn  much  if  they  will  faithfully  attend  Miss 
Gould's  classes.  And,  of  course,  it  is  under- 
stood that  there  must  be  no  neglect  of  the  regu- 
lar school  work  by  those  striving  for  the  laurel 
of  the  playwright. 

"I  doubt  if  we  have  any  budding  female 
60 


THE  RACE  IS   ON  bi 

Shakespeares  among  us,  yet  I  realize  that  the 
youthful  mind  naturally  slants  towards  tragedy 
and  the  redundant  phrases  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  masters,  as  read  in  their  translation;  but 
let  me  advise  all  you  young  ladies  who  wish  to 
compete  for  the  prize,  to  select  a  simple  subject 
and  treat  it  simply. 

"  Have  your  play  display  human  nature  as  you 
know  it,  and  realism  without  morbidness." 

The  girls  of  Central  High  who  had  heretofore 
excelled  in  composition  naturally  were  looked 
upon  as  favorites  in  this  race  for  dramatic  hon- 
ors. Among  the  Juniors,  Laura  Belding  and 
Nellie  Agnew  always  received  high  marks  for 
such  work.  They  possessed  the  knack  of  com- 
position and  were  what  Bobby  Hargrew  called 
"  fluid  writers." 

"If  it  was  a  jingle  or  limerick,  I'd  stand  a 
chance,"  sighed  Bobby  to  herself.  "  But  think 
of  the  sustained  effort  of  writing  a  whole  play! 
Gee!  two  hours  and  a  half  long.  It  would  break 
my  heart  to  sit  still  long  enough  to  do  it." 

Jess  Morse  had  never  tried  to  more  than  pass 
in  English  composition.  For  the  very  reason, 
perhaps,  that  she  had  seen  the  practical  side  of 
such  a  career  at  home,  she  had  not,  like  so  many 
girls  of  her  age,  contemplated  seriously  literary 
employment  for  herself. 


62    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Lily  Pendleton  was  known  to  have  once  es- 
sayed an  erotic  novel,  and  had  read  a  few  chap- 
ters to  some  of  her  closer  friends.  Bobby  said 
it  should  have  been  written  on  yellow  paper  with 
an  asbestos  pad  under  it  to  save  scorching  Miss 
Pendleton's  desk.  Of  course,  Lily  would  at- 
tempt a  play  in  the  most  romantic  style. 

The  boys  began  to  hatch  practical  jokes  anent 
the  play- writing  before  the  week  was  out;  and 
one  afternoon  diet  Belding  appeared  in  a  group 
of  his  sister's  friends,  and  with  serious  face  de- 
clared he  had  with  him  the  outline  and  introduc- 
tory scene  of  Laura's  play,  its  caption  being: 

"  The  Poisoned  Bathing-Suit ;  or,  The  Sum- 
mer Boarder's  Revenge." 

Some  of  the  girls — and  not  alone  the  Juniors 
like  Laura,  Nellie  and  Jess — were  very  serious 
about  this  matter  of  the  play.  Mrs.  Kerrick's 
prize  spurred  every  girl  who  had  the  least  ability 
in  that  direction  to  begin  writing  a  dramatic 
piece.  Some,  of  course,  did  not  get  far ;  but  the 
main  topic  of  discussion  out  of  school  hours 
among  the  girls  of  Central  High  was  the  play 
and  the  prize. 

Jess  talked  it  over  with  her  -mother,  and  Mrs. 
Morse  grew  highly  excited. 

"  Why,  Josephine,  dear,  if  you  could  win  that 
prize  it  would  be  splendid!  Then  you  could 


THE  RACE  IS   ON  63 

have  a  new  party  dress — and  a  really  nice  one — 
and  the  furs  I  have  been  hoping  to  buy  you  for 
two  seasons.  Dear,  dear!  what  a  lot  of  things 
you  really  could  get  for  that  sum." 

"  I  guess  it  would  help  us  out  a  whole  lot,"  ad- 
mitted the  girl.  "  We  need  so  many  things " 

"  Why,  I  shouldn't  allow  you  to  use  a  cent  of 
it  for  the  household — or  for  me,"  cried  her 
mother.  "  No,  indeed." 

"  I  haven't  won  it  yet,"  sighed  Jess.  "  But 
I  guess  if  I  did  win  it  you'd  have  to  take  a  part 
of  it,  Mother." 

"  Nonsense,  child ! "  cried  Mrs.  Morse. 
"  We'll  have  some  checks  in  shortly.  And  we 
sha'n't  starve  meanwhile.  Now,  let  us  look  over 
this  plot  you  have  evolved  and  perhaps  I  can  sug- 
gest some  helpful  points — and  show  you  how  to 
write  brisk  dialogue.  That  is  something  the  edi- 
tors always  praise  me  for — although  I  have 
never  dared  try  a  play  myself.  It  is  so  hard 
to  get  a  hearing  before  a  really  responsible  mana- 
ger." 

Outside  help  for  the  girls  was  not  debarred 
by  the  terms  of  the  contest,  so  long  as  the  main 
thread  of  plot  in  each  play  was  original  with  the 
author,  and  she  actually  did  the  work.  Jess 
listened  to  the  practical  suggestions  of  her  mother 
in  relation  to  her  play;  but  all  the  time  she  had 


64    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

upon  her  mind,  too,  the  domestic  difficulties  that 
seemed  to  have  culminated  just  now  in  a  single 
great  billow  of  trouble. 

No  money  had  come  in.  She  had  been  ob- 
liged to  go  once  more  to  Mr.  Hargrew  for  gro- 
ceries, and  to  the  meat  store  and  to  Mr.  Vander- 
griff's.  Her  mother  could  talk  in  her  cheerful 
manner  about  what  she  could  do  with  the  two 
hundred  dollar  prize  if  she  earned  it.  But  Jess 
was  very  sure  that  she  would  not  spend  it  for 
personal  adornment — although  no  girl  at  Cen- 
tral High  loved  to  be  dressed  in  the  mode  more 
than  Jess  Morse. 

"If  such  a  darling  thing  should  .happen  as 
my  winning  the  prize,  I'd  put  it  all  in  the  bank 
for  a  nest-egg,"  she  thought.  "  Then,  when 
checks  do  not  come  in,  we  would  not  have  to  ask 
for  credit.  We'd  pay  up  all  debts  and  etart 
square  with  the  world.  And  then — and  then  I'd 
be  perfectly  happy !  " 

The  first  of  the  month  arrived,  and  with  it 
Mr.  Chumley.  Mrs.  Morse  was  busy  at  her  desk 
and  said: 

"Just  tell  him,  Josephine,  that  we  will  have  it 
shortly.  He  needn't  come  again.  I'll  let  you 
take  it  around  to  his  house  to  him  when  I  get 
it." 

But  this  did  not  suit  the  old  man,  and  he 


THE  RACE  IS  ON  65 

pushed  his  way,  for  once,  into  the  presence  of 
the  literary  lady. 

"Now,  see  here!  Now,  see  here!"  he  cack- 
led. "  This  won't  do  at  all,  Widder — this  won't 
do  at  all!  I  want  my  money,  and  I  want  it 
prompt.  And  if  you  can't  pay  your  present  rent 
prompt,  how  do  you  expect  to  pay  it  next  month, 
when  you  must  find  three  dollars  more?  Now, 
tell  me  that,  Ma'am?" 

"Really,  Mr.  Chumley!  You  are  too  bad," 
complained  Mrs.  Morse.  "  I  am  so  hard  at 
work.  You  quite  drive  the  ideas  out  of  my 
head.  I — I  don't  know  what  train  of  thought 
I  was  following." 

Mr.  Chumley  snorted.  "  You'd  better  be 
huntin'  the  advertisement  columns  of  a  news- 
paper for  a  job,  Widder,"  he  said.  "  Them 
'  trains  of  thought '  of  yours  won't  never  carry 
you  nowhere.  I  gotter  have  my  money.  How 
are  you  going  to  get  it?" 

"  I  have  never  failed  to  pay  you  heretofore, 
have  I?"  asked  the  lady,  bringing  out  her  hand- 
kerchief now.  "  I  think  this  is  too  bad " 

"  But  I  want  money !  " 

"  And  you  shall  have  it.  I  have  considerable 
owing  to  me — oh,  yes!  a  good  deal  more  than 
sufficient  to  pay  your  rent,  Mr.  Chumley.  You 
will  get  it." 


66    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

That  was  a  very  unsatisfactory  interview  for 
the  landlord,  and  particularly  so  for  Mrs.  Morse. 
She  complained  w.hen  he  had  gone  to  Jess: 

"  Now,  my  day  is  just  spoiled.  I'm  all  at 
loose  ends.  It  will  cost  me  a  day's  work. 
Really,  Josephine,  if  only  people  wouldn't  nag 
me  so  for  money !  " 

And  Jess  strove  to  shield  her  all  that  she  could 
from  such  interviews.  Mrs.  Morse  needed  to 
live  alone  in  a  world  with  her  brain-children. 
Meanwhile  her  flesh-and-blood  child  had  to  fight 
her  battles  with  the  landlord  and  tradesmen. 

It  was  amid  such  sordid  troubles  that  Jess 
evolved  the  idea  for  her  play.  The  butterfly  is 
born  of  the  ugly  chrysalis;  out  of  this  unlovely 
environment  grew  a  pretty,  idyllic  comedy 
which,  although  crude  in  spots,  and  lacking  the 
professional  touch  which  makes  a  dramatic 
piece  "  easy  acting,"  really  showed  such  prom- 
ise that  Mrs.  Morse  acclaimed  its  value  loudly. 

"  Oh,  Mother !  don't  praise  me  so  much," 
begged  Jess.  "  The  theme  is  good,  I  know.  But 
it  scares  me.  How  can  I  ever  dress  it  up  to 
make  it  sound  like  a  real  play?  It  sounds  so 
jerky  and  imperfect — that  part  that  I  have  writ- 
ten, I  mean." 

"  There  is  something  a  dramatic  critic  told  me 
once  that  may  be  true,"  replied  her  mother.  "  It 


THE   RACE  IS   ON  67 

was  that  the  piece  which  reads  smoothly  seldom 
acts  well ;  whereas  a  play  that  '  gets  over  the 
footlights  '  usually  reads  poorly.  You  see,  action 
cannot  be  read  aloud;  and  it  is  the  action  that 
accompanies  the  words  of  a  dramatic  piece  that 
makes  those  words  tell. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  Mr.  Sharp  and  his 
committee  will  consider  your  play  the  best 
written,  from  a  literary  standpoint;  but  I  under- 
stand that  they  have  invited  Mr.  Monterey,  the 
manager  of  the  Centerport  Opera  House,  to  read 
the  plays,  too.  And  you,  Josephine,  write  for 
him;  for  they  will  depend  upon  his  judgment  in 
the  choice  of  the  acting  qualities  of  the  piece." 

This  was  good  advice,  as  Jess  very  well  knew. 
And  she  could  barely  keep  her  mind  sufficiently 
upon  her  school  work  to  pass  the  eagle  scrutiny 
of  Miss  Grace  G.  Carrington,  so  wrapped  up  was 
she  in  the  play.  Not  even  to  Laura  did  she  con- 
fide any  facts  regarding  the  piece.  Some  of  the 
girls  openly  discussed  what  they  had  done,  and 
what  they  hoped ;  but  Jess  kept  still. 

Thursday  came  and  in  her  mother's  morning 
mail  was  a  letter  with  the  card  of  the  Centerport 
Courier  in  the  corner. 

"Now,  what  can  that  be?"  drawled  Mrs. 
Morse,  when  Jess  eagerly  brought  it  to  her. 
"  They  buy  no  fugitive  matter,  and  I  haven't 


68    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

sent  them  anything  since  having  my  interview 
with  Mr.  Prentice.  I  really  would  have  been 
happier  to  see  a  letter  like  that  from  one  of  the 
New  York  magazines;  it  might  have  contained  a 
check  in  that  case,"  and  she  slowly  slit  the 
envelope. 

But  Jess  waited  in  the  background  with  sup- 
pressed eagerness  in  her  face  and  attitude.  At 
once  her  thought  had  leaped  to  Mrs.  Prentice. 
She  had  not  told  her  mother  a  word  about  that 
lady's  visit  on  Friday  evening,  nor  her  errand 
to  the  house.  But  if  Mrs.  Prentice  was  really 
"  the  power  behind  the  throne  "  in  the  Courier 
office,  she  might  easily  put  some  regular  work  in 
the  way  of  Mrs.  Morse. 

"  Listen  to  this,  child !  "  exclaimed  her  mother, 
having  glanced  hastily  through  the  letter.  "  Per- 
haps I  had  better  take  this — for  a  time,  at  least. 
I  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  tied  down — it 
might  interfere  with  my  magazine  work " 

"  Oh,  Mother !  "  cried  Jess.    "  What  is  it?  " 

"  Listen :  Addressed  to  me,  '  Dear  Madam  :— 
Will  reconsider  your  suggestion  of  covering  Hill 
section  for  society  news.  Can  afford  at  least 
five  dollars'  worth  of  space  through  the  week, 
and  perhaps  something  extra  on  Sunday.  Come 
and  see  me  again.  Respectfully,  P.  S.  Prentice.' 
Well!" 


THE   RACE  IS   ON  69 

"Oh,  Mother!"  repeated  Jess.  "What  a 
splendid  chance ! " 

"  Why,  Josephine,  not  so  very  splendid,"  said 
her  mother,  slowly.  "  He  only  guarantees  me 
five  dollars  weekly.  That  is  not  much." 

"  It  will  feed  us — if  we  are  careful,"  gasped 
Jess. 

"  Goodness,  Josephine !  What  a  horribly 
practical  child  you  are  getting  to  be.  I  don't 
know  what  the  girls  of  to-day  are  coming  to. 
Now,  that  would  never  have  appealed  to  jne 
when  I  was  your  age.  I  never  knew  how  papa 
and  mamma  got  food  for  us." 

Jess  might  have  told  her  that  conditions  had 
not  changed  much  since  her  girlhood! 

"  But  five  dollars  regularly  will  help  us  a  whole 
lot,  Mother,"  she  urged. 

"  And  it  will  necessitate  my  going  out  con- 
siderably— and  appearing  at  receptions  and 
places.  Really — I  have  refused  a  number  of  in- 
vitations because  of  my  wardrobe.  My  excuse 
of  '  work '  is  not  always  strictly  true,"  sighed 
Mrs.  Morse. 

"  But  do,  do  try  it,  Mother !  "  cried  Jess. 

"  Well,"  said  the  lady,  "  it  may  do  no  harm. 
And  it  may  be  an  opening  for  something  better. 
But,  really,  nobody  must  know  that  I  am  a  mere 
society  reporter  on  the  Centerport  Courier." 


CHAPTER   IX 

A    SKATING    PARTY 

THE  girls  of  the  Junior  class  in  modern  his- 
tory were  filing  out  on  Friday. 

"What  do  you  know  about  that?"  hissed 
Bobby  Hargrew,  in  the  ears  of  her  chums. 
"  Gee  Gee  is  getting  meaner  and  meaner  every 
day  she  lives." 

"  What  did  she  do  to  you  now  ? "  demanded 
Dora  Lockwood,  one  of  the  twins. 

"  Didn't  you  notice  ?  She  sent  Postscript  to 
hunt  up  Moscow  on  the  map  of  Russia.  Now! 
you  know  very  well  that  Moscow  was  burned 
in  1812!" 

"  You  ridiculous  child ! "  exclaimed  Nellie 
Agnew.  "  You  will  never  do  anything  in  school 
but  make  jokes  and  try  the  patience  of  your 
teachers." 

"  I  am  no  friend  to  teachers,  I  admit,"  con- 
fided Bobby  to  Dora  and  Dorothy.  "  Don't  you 
think  they  ought  to  be  made  to  earn  their 

money?  " 

70 


THE   SKATING  PARTY  71 

"Any  teacher  who  is  so  unfortunate  as  to 
have  you  in  his,  or  her,  class,  is  bound  to  earn 
all  the  salary  coming  to  them,"  declared  Doro- 
thy. 

"  Bad  grammar — but  you  don't  know  any 
better,"  declared  the  harum-scarum.  "  You're 
just  as  bad  as  Freddie  Atkinson.  Dimple  asked 
him  who  compiled  the  dictionary,  and  Freddie 
said,  'Daniel  Webster.' 

"  '  No,  sir !     Noah ! '  snapped  Dimple. 

"'Oh,  Professor!'  exclaimed  Fred.  'I 
thought  Noah  compiled  the  Ark  ? ' ' 

As  the  girls  were  laughing  over  this  story  of 
Bobby  Hargrew's,  Eve  Sitz  came  up  briskly. 
Laura  and  Jess  were  near  at  hand,  and  in  a 
moment  a  group  of  the  Juniors  who  always 
"  trained  together "  were  in  animated  discus- 
sion. 

"  Yes.  It's  frozen  hard.  Otto  was  on  it  with 
a  pair  of  horses  and  our  pung,"  declared  Eve, 
who  came  in  every  morning  from  the  country 
on  the  train,  and  whose  father  owned  a  big  farm 
over  beyond  Robinson's  Woods. 

"What's  frozen?"  demanded  Dora. 

"Peveril  Pond.  It's  as  smooth  as  glass.  I 
want  you  to  all  come  over  on  Saturday  after- 
noon; we'll  have  a  lot  of  fun,"  declared  Eve. 

"  You're  always  inviting  us  to  the  farm,  Evan- 


72    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

geline,"  said  Nellie  Agnew ;  "  I  should  think 
your  father  and  mother  would  be  tired  of  having 
us  overrun  the  place." 

"  Never  you  mind  about  them,"  declared 
Evangeline,  smiling.  "  They  love  to  have  young 
folks  around.  Now,  remember!  Saturday  at 
noon  the  autos  will  start  from  the  Beldings* 
front  door — if  it  doesn't  snow." 

"  Oh,  snow !  "  cried  Bobby.    "  I  hope  not  yet" 

" '  Beautiful  snow !  he  may  sing  whom  it  suits — 
I  object  to  the  stuff,  'cause  it  soaks  through  my 
boots!'" 

"  It's  too  bad,"  said  Jess,  "  that  Mrs.  Kerrick 
didn't  offer  a  prize  for  verse.  Bobby  would  win 
it,  sure!" 

"  Never  you  mind,"  said  Bobby,  with  mock 
solemnity.  "  I  may  surprise  you  all  yet.  I  am 
capable  of  turning  out  tragic  stuff — you  bet 
your  boots ! " 

"  Mercy,  Bobby !  how  slangy  you  are  getting," 
murmured  Nell  Agnew,  the  doctor's  daughter. 

"  You  think  I  cannot  be  serious  ?  "  demanded 
Bobby,  very  gravely.  "  Listen  here.  Here  is 
what  I  call  '  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minorca ' — 
not  the  '  Last  Minstrel ! ' 

" '  She  laid  the  still  white  form  beside  those 
that  had  gone  before/  quoth  Bobby,  in  sepul- 
chral tone. 


THE  SKATING  PARTY 


73 


'  No  sob,  no  sigh,  forced  its  way  from  her 
heart,  throbbing  as  though  it  would  burst. 

:  *  Suddenly  a  cry  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
place — a  single  heartbreaking  shriek,  which 
seemed  to  well  up  from  her  very  soul,  as 
she  left  the  place: 

"'"Cut,  cut,  cut-ah-out!" 
'  She  would  lay  another  egg  to-morrow.' ' 

"  You  ridiculous  girl ! "  exclaimed  Laura. 
""Aren't  you  ever  serious  at  all?  " 

"  My  light  manner  hides  a  breaking 
hear-r-r-t,"  croaked  Bobby.  "  You  don't 
know  me,  Laura,  as  I  really  are! " 

"Don't  want  to,"  declared  Laura  Belding, 
briskly.  "  It  must  be  awful  to  be  a  humorist. 
All  right,  Eve.  We'll  come  on  Saturday.  Chet 
will  see  Mr.  Purcell  about  the  big  car.  Lake 
Luna  is  frozen  only  at  the  edges,  and  is  unsafe. 
But  we  will  have  a  good  time  at  Peveril  Pond." 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Morse  received  payment  for 
a  story  in  a  magazine  that  week  or  Jess  would 
never  have  had  the  heart  to  join  the  skating 
party.  But  the  sum  realized  was  sufficient  to 
settle  with  Mr.  Closewick,  pay  the  month's  rent 
of  the  cottage,  and  pay  a  part  of  each  bill  at 
Mr.  Heuffler's  and  Mr.  Vandergriff's  shops. 

These  payments  left  Jess  and  her  mother  al- 
most as  badly  off  as  they  were  before.  And 


74    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

there  was  the  new  account  started  at  Mr.  Har- 
grew's.  But  Chet  Belding  urged  Jess  very 
strongly  to  be  his  guest  on  Saturday,  and  there 
was  really  no  reason  why  Jess  should  not  go. 
Her  mother  had  seen  Mr.  Prentice  and  begun 
furnishing  items  to  the  Courier  from  day  to 
day;  and  the  girl  felt  that,  with  care,  they  might 
be  able  to  keep  from  getting  so  deeply  into  debt 
again. 

No  snow  had  fallen  up  to  Saturday  noon ;  but 
it  was  cold,  and  the  clouds  threatened  a  feathery 
fall  before  many  hours.  The  young  folk  who 
gathered  in  the  big  hall  of  the  Belding  house 
thought  little  of  the  cold,  however.  There  were 
warm  robes  and  blankets  in  the  Belding  auto 
and  in  the  sightseeing  machine  that  Mr.  Purcell 
had  sent.  Chet,  in  his  bearskin  coat,  looked  like 
the  original  owner  of  the  garment— especially 
when  he  pulled  the  goggles  down  from  the  visor 
of  his  cap,  and  prepared  to  go  out  to  the  car. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  drawled  Prettyman  Sweet, 
the  dandy  of  Central  High,  who  was  of  the 
party,  "  you  look  howwidly  fewocious,  doncher 
know!  I  wouldn't  dwess  in  such  execrable  taste 
for  any  sum  you  could  mention — no,  sir !  " 

"Beauty's  only  skin  deep,  they  say,  Pretty," 
responded  Chet.  "  So,  if  you  were  flayed,  you 
might  look  quite  human  yourself." 


THE   SKATING  PARTY 


75 


"  Purt "  was  gorgeous  in  a  Canadian  skating 
suit — or  so  the  tailor  who  sold  it  to  him  had 
called  it.  It  was  all  crimson  and  white,  with 
a  fur-edged  velvet  cap  that  it  really  took  cour- 
age to  wear,  and  fur-topped  boots.  And  his 
gloves!  they  were  marvels.  One  of  them  lying 
on  the  floor  of  the  Beldings'  hall  gave  Topsy, 
Mrs.  Belding's  pet  terrier,  such  a  fright  that 
she  pretty  nearly  barked  her  head  off. 

She  made  so  much  noise  that  Lance  grabbed 
at  her  and  tried  to  put  her  out  of  the  room, 
Topsy  still  barking  furiously. 

"  You  look  out ! "  drawled  Bobby  Hargrew. 
"One  end  of  that  dog  bites,  Lance!" 

They  turned  Purt  around  and  around  to  get 
the  beauties  of  his  costume  at  every  angle.  And 
they  "  rigged  "  him  sorely.  But  the  exquisite 
was  used  to  it;  he  would  only  have  felt  badly  if 
they  had  ignored  his  new  "  get-up." 

"It's  quite  the  thing,  I  assure  you,"  he  de- 
clared. "  And,  weally,  one  should  pay  some  at- 
tention to  the  styles.  You  fellows,  weally,  dress 
in  execrable  taste." 

When  the  party  was  complete  they  bundled 
into  their  wraps  again  and  piled  into  the  ma- 
chines. Mrs.  Belding  had  retired  to  her  own 
room  until  the  "  devastation  of  the  barbarians," 
as  she  called  it,  was  past;  but  Mammy  Jinny 


76    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

straightened  up  the  hall  and  dining  room  after 
the  young  folk  with  great  cheerfulness. 

"  Yo'  know  how  yo'  was  yo'self,  Miss  Annie, 
w'en  yo'  was  oberflowin'  wid  de  sperits  ob 
youth,"  she  said,  soothingly. 

"  I  am  sure  I  never  overflowed  quite  so  bois- 
terously," sighed  Mrs.  Belding. 

"No.  Yo'  warn't  one  ob  de  oberflowin'  kind, 
Miss  Annie,"  admitted  the  old;  black  woman. 
"  But  Mars'  Chet  an'  Miss  Laura,  and  dem 
friends  ob  theirs,  sartain  sure  kin  kick  up  a 
mighty  combobberation — yaas'm !  " 

The  wintry  wind  blew  sharply  past  the  crowd 
of  Central  High  Juniors  as  the  Belding  auto  and 
the  bigger  machine  struck  a  fast  pace  when  once 
they  had  cleared  the  city.  There  was  lots  of 
fun  in  the  autos  on  the  way  to  the  Sitz  farm; 
but  they  were  all  glad  to  tumble  out  there  and 
crowd  into  the  big  kitchen  "  for  a  warm." 

The  Swiss  family  were  the  most  hospitable 
people  in  the  world.  Eve's  mother  had  a  great 
heap  of  hot  cakes  ready  for  them,  and  there  was 
coffee,  too,  to  drive  out  the  cold. 

"  We're  going  to  take  Patrick  down  to  the 
pond  with  us  to  keep  up  the  fires  while  we're 
skating,"    Eve    told  Laura.     Eve   looked    very 
pretty  in  her  skating  rig,  and  she  was  a  splendid  i 
skater,  too.     "  Father  and  Otto  are  somewhere 


THE   SKATING  PARTY  77 

down  in  the  woods  already.  This  cold  weather 
coming  on  marks  the  time  for  hog  killing,  and 
some  of  the  porkers  have  been  running  in  the 
woods,  fattening  on  the  mast.  There  is  an  old 
mother  hog  that  has  gotten  quite  wild,  and  has 
a  litter  of  young  ones  with  her  that  are  hard  to 
catch.  They  may  have  to  shoot  her.  So  flf 
you  hear  a  gun  go  off,  don't  be  alarmed." 

The  hired  man,  who  stayed  with  the  Sitzes 
all  the  year  around,  was  a  comical  genius  and 
the  boys  knew  him  well.  As  they  started  on 
the  walk  to  the  pond,  Chet  asked  him: 

"Do  you  skate  yourself,  Pat?" 

"  Sure,  and  it's  an  illegant  skater  I  used  to 
be  when  I  was  young,"  declared  Pat;  "barrin1 
that  I  niver  had  thim  murderin'  knives  on  me 
feet,  but  used  ter  skate  on  a  bit  of  board  down 
Donnegan's  Hill." 

"  He'll  never  own  up  that  he  doesn't  know  a 
thing,"  whispered  Eve  to  Laura  and  Jess,  as  the 
boys  laughed  over  this  statement  of  the  Irish- 
man. "  He  was  planting  potatoes  in  the  upper 
field,  and  all  by  himself,  last  spring,  and  a  man 
drove  along  the  road,  and  stopped  and  asked  him 
what  kind  of  potatoes  they  were. 

"  '  Sure,  I  know,'  says  Patrick. 

"'Then  what  kind  are  they?'  repeated  the 
neighbor. 


78    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

'  Sure,  they're  raw  ones,  Mr.  Hurley/  says 
he,  and  Hurley  came  to  the  house  roaring  with 
laughter  over  it  Nothing  feazes  Patrick." 

The  long,  sloping  hill,  under  the  chestnuts  and 
oaks,  would  have  made  a  splendid  coasting  place ; 
only  there  was  no  snow  on  the  ground. 

"  But  when  the  snow  does  come,"  cried  Dora 
Lockwood,  "  if  the  pond  is  still  frozen  over, 
won't  it  be  a  great  course  ?  " 

"  The  ice  is  all  right  now,  at  any  rate,"  Eve 
reassured  them.  "  And  there  isn't  a  spring  hole 
in  the  entire  pond,  Otto  says." 

Patrick  had  brought  an  axe  and,  with  the  help 
of  some  of  the  boys,  soon  had  a  big  bonfire  burn- 
ing on  the  edge  of  the  pond.  Meanwhile  the 
other  boys  helped  the  girls  with  their  skate- 
straps,  and  then  got  on  their  own  skates. 

The  ice  hadn't  a  scratch  on  it.  It  was  like  a 
great  plate  of  glass,  and  so  clear  in  places  that 
they  could  see  to  the  bottom  of  the  pond — where 
the  bottom  was  sandy. 

All  the  young  folk  were  soon  on  the  ice,  the 
boys  starting  a  hockey  game  at  the  far  end,  and 
the  girls  circling  around  in  pairs  at  the  end 
nearest  to  the  fire. 

"  That's  what  Mrs.  Case,  our  physical  in- 
structor, says  we  ought  to  learn,"  said  Laura, 
watching  the  boys. 

M  And  it's  jolly  good  fun,  too,"  cried  Bobby. 


THE  SKATING  PARTY  79 

"  But  suppose  you  turned  your  ankle,  or  fell 
down  and  tore  your  dress?"  suggested  Nellie. 
"  I  believe  hockey  on  the  ice  is  too  rough." 

"  No  game  needs  to  be  rough,"  declared 
Laura.  "  That  isn't  the  spirit  of  athletics. 
Didn't  we  learn  how  to  play  basketball  without 
being  rough  ?  " 

"  Even  Hessie  Grimes  learned  that,"  chuckled 
Bobby. 

At  that  moment  a  gun  was  fired  back  in  the 
thicker  woods,  and  then  out  of  the  brush  the 
girls  saw  an  animal  charging  directly  for  the 
pond.  Patrick  saw  it,  too,  and  leaped  up  from 
before  the  fire  and  ran  toward  the  beast. 

"  It's  a  big  hog !  "  cried  Bobby. 

"  That's  the  one  they  want  to  catch,"  said  Eve. 
"  She  is  ugly,  too,  I  believe."  Then  she  raised 
her  voice  in  warning  to  Patrick:  "Look  out, 
Patrick!  She  is  real  cross." 

"  Faith !  "  returned  the  Irishman,  half  squat- 
ting down  in  the  path  of  the  charging  sow.  "  It's 
not  afraid  I  be  of  the  likes  of  a  pig.  'Tis  too 
many  of  their  tails  I've  twisted  in  ould  Ireland, 
to  run  from  wan  in  Ameriky " 

Just  then  the  animal  spied  him  and  went  for 
Patrick,  full  tilt.  There  wasn't  time  for  the 
Irsihman  to  dodge;  but  he  did  spread  his 
legs,  and  the  angry  mother-hog  ran  between 
them. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    MID-TERM    EXAMINATION 

THE  girls,  who  were  nearest  the  end  of  tht, 
lake,  watched  Patrick  and  the  old  hog  in  amaze- 
ment. The  boys  came  down  from  the  far  end 
with  a  chorus  of  yells  and  laughter. 

For  the  Irishman,  leaping  up  with  his  feet 
apart,  descended  on  the  back  of  the  charging  ani- 
mal, with  his  face  toward  her  tail! 

The  porker  grunted  her  displeasure,  and  Pat- 
rick did  some  grunting,  too;  but  he  was  not 
easily  scared — nor  would  he  be  shaken  off.  He 
locked  his  arms  tightly  around  the  animal's  body 
and  hugged  her  neck  with  his  legs,  so  that  she 
could  not  bite  him. 

The  creature  kept  up  a  deafening  squealing, 
whtte  out  of  the  bush  rushed  Dandy,  the  farm- 
er's dog.  The  boys  came  sweeping  in  from  the 
lake  to  join  in  the  sport — sport  to  everybody  but 
the  pig  and  Patrick!  But  Dandy  got  into  the 
scrimmage  first. 

True  to  his  instinct,  the  dog  attempted  to  seize 
80 


THE   MID-TERM  EXAMINATION  8l 

the  hog  by  the  ear,  but  miscalculated  and  caught 
Patrick  by  the  calf  of  the  leg! 

"  Moses  and  all  the  children  of  Israel ! " 
bawled  the  Irishman.  "  Tis  not  fair  to  set  two 
bastes  onto  wan!  Call  off  yer  dawg,  Otto,  or 
it's  the  death  of  him  I'll  be  when  I  git  rid  of 
the  hog." 

But  just  then  the  poor  hog  got  rid  of  him. 
She  lay  down  and  Patrick  tumbled  off,  kicking 
at  the  dog.  Dandy  seemed  much  surprised  to 
discover  that  he  had  locked  his  teeth  on  the 
•wrong  individual! 

The  boys  were  convulsed  with  laughter;  but 
the  girls  were  afraid  that  the  Irishman  had  been 
seriously  hurt.  And,  from  the  squealing  of  the 
hog,  they  were  positive  that  she  was  suffering. 

However,  Mr.  Sitz  and  Otto  appeared,  and 
tied  the  legs  of  the  struggling  beast,  and  so  bore 
her  away.  They  had  already  trapped  her  litter 
of  young  ones,  and  Patrick  limped  after  his 
master  and  Otto,  vowing  vengeance  against  both 
the  hog  and  the  dog. 

So  the  boys  took  turns  in  keeping  up  the  fire 
on  the  shore,  for  although  it  was  a  clear  day, 
the  wind  continued  cold  and  blew  hard.  They 
were  all  glad  to  hover  around  the  blaze,  now 
and  then;  and  especially  so  when  they  ate  their 
luncheons. 


82    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Eve  had  prepared  a  great  can  of  chocolate  and 
the  girls  had  all  brought  well-filled  lunch  boxes. 
Bobby  was  hovering  about  Laura's  as  soon  as  it 
was  opened. 

"  Mammy  Jinny's  made  you  something  nice, 
I  know,"  she  said.  "Dear  me,  I'm  so  hungry! 
I  wish  I  was  like  the  Mississippi  River." 

"What's  that  for?"  demanded  Prettyman 
Sweet,  who  overheard  her.  "  Like  the  Missis- 
sippi ?  Fawncy ! " 

"  Then  I'd  have  three  mouths,"  exclaimed 
Bobby,  immediately  rilling  the  mouth  she  did 
possess. 

"  My  word !  that  wouldn't  be  so  bad  an  idea, 
would  it  ? "  proclaimed  Purt,  who  was  a  good 
deal  of  a  gourmand  himself. 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  this  jam  pie,"  com- 
plained Chet,  holding  up  a  wedge  that  he  had 
taken  from  his  sister's  basket. 

"  That's  not  jam  pie ! "  exclaimed  Laura. 
"Whoever  heard  of  jam  pie?" 

"Yep.  This  is  it,"  declared  Chet  "The 
crusts  are  jammed  right  together.  There  ain't 
enough  filling." 

The  wind  increased  toward  the  end  of  the  day 
and  it  \vas  hard  to  skate  against  it ;  but  the  young 
folk  had  a  lot  of  fun  sailing  down  the  length  of 
the  pond  with  their  coats  spread  for  sails. 


THE   MID-TERM   EXAMINATION  83 

"  That  was  a  great  scheme  you  suggested  about 
the  kite  the  other  day,  Laura,"  declared  Lance 
Darby.  "  It  was  as  good  as  an  aeroplane." 

"  What  would  be  the  matter  with  hitching  the 
kite  to  our  scooter  ?  "  suggested  Chet,  who  over- 
heard him. 

The  two  chums  owned  a  small  iceboat  which 
went,  on  Lake  Luna,  by  the  name  of  "  scooter." 

"  Say,  old  man !  I've  got  a  better  scheme  than 
that ! "  cried  Lance,  suddenly. 

"What  say?" 

"  Let's  combine  a  flying  machine  with  an  ice- 
boat and  beat  out  everybody  on  the  lake  this 
winter?  " 

"  Wow !  "  shouted  his  chum.  "  Now,  you've 
been  skating  with  Mother  Wit  and  have  caught 
her  inventive  genius — it's  contagious.  Gee!  what 
an  idea !  " 

"That's  all  right.  Wait  till  you  hear  my 
scheme,"  said  Lance,  wagging  his  head. 

"  It  ought  to  work  fine,"  said  Bobby  Har- 
grew,  with  serious  face.  "  All  you  will  have  to 
do  when  you  are  sailing  along  the  ice  and  come 
to  open  water  will  be  to  turn  a  switch  and  jump 
right  into  the  air.  Save  getting  your  feet  wet." 

"  Laugh  all  you  want  to,"  said  Lance,  threat- 
eningly. "  When  we  get  it  done  you  girls  will 
be  glad  enough  to  ride  in  it." 


84    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  Not  I !  "  cried  Nellie  Agnew.  "  I  wouldn't 
ride  on  your  old  scooter  as  it  is.  And  to  com- 
bine a  flying  machine  and  iceboat — whew!  I 
guess  not" 

The  boys  became  enthusiastic,  however,  and 
they  talked  about  it  all  the  way  home.  Lance, 
however,  kept  the  important  idea  regarding 
the  new  invention  for  Chet  Belding's  private 
ear. 

Jess  Morse  enjoyed  the  outing  that  Saturday, 
as  she  always  enjoyed  such  fun  when  with  the 
Beldings;  but,  after  all  her  mind  was  on  her 
play.  She  almost  lived  that  play  nowadays! 

And,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  began  to  neglect 
some  of  her  studies  in  her  concentration  of  mind 
upon  "  The  Spring  Road."  Her  mother  praised 
it  warmly. 

"  To  think  that  I  should  have  a  daughter  who 
may  turn  out  to  be  a  real  genius ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Morse.  "Although  it  is  so  hard  to  get  a  play 
accepted  by  a  first-class  producer." 

"  No.    I  don't  want  to  be  a  genius,"  said  Jess 
shaking  her  head.     "  But  I  do  want  awfully  to 
win  that  prize." 

"  Such  a  sordid  child,"  said  her  mother,  play- 
fully. "  I  cannot  imagine  one's  putting  such  em- 
phasis on  mere  money.  It  isn't  genius,  after  all, 
I  fear.  Our  friends  would  call  you  eminently 


THE   MID-TERM   EXAMINATION  85 

practical,  I  suppose,"  and  the  irresponsible  lady 
sighed. 

But  if  Jess  .had  no  impractical  thoughts  re- 
garding why  she  wished  to  win  the  prize,  she 
made  the  mistake,  just  the  same,  of  letting  Miss 
Carrington  catch  her  two  or  three  times  in  reci- 
tation hour.  Gee  Gee  was  down  on  her  like  a 
hawk. 

"Miss  Morse,  what  does  this  mean?  "de- 
manded the  stern  teacher,  eyeing  Jess  with  par- 
ticular grimness  through  her  thick  spectacles. 

She  had  called  the  culprit  to  her  desk  just 
before  the  noon  recess  and  now  showed  her  the 
enormity  of  her  offenses. 

"  You  are  falling  back.  There  is  something 
on  your  mind  beside  your  textbooks,  that  is  very 
sure,  Miss  Morse.  I  cannot  lay  it  to  athletics 
at  present,  I  suppose,  for  there  seems  to  be  a 
slight  let-up  in  the  activities  of  you  young  ladies 
in  that  direction,"  and  she  smiled  her  very  scorn- 
fullest  smile.  Miss  Carrington  abhorred  ath- 
letics. 

"  But  we  have  another  matter  interfering  with 
the  placid  current  of  our  school  life.  Are  you, 
Miss  Morse,  one  of  the  young  ladies  who  are 
attempting  to  write  a  play?" 

"Ye — yes,  ma'am,"  stammered  Jess,  blushing 
to  her  ears. 


86    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  Ah !  so  I  thought.  I  believe  I  can  pick  out 
all  these  playwrights  by  a  reference  to  their  reci- 
tation papers.  And  this  afternoon  comes  our 
mid-term  examination.  Let  me  tell  you,  Miss 
Morse,  that  you  must  do  better  this  afternoon, 
or  I  shall  take  your  case  up  with  Mr.  Sharp." 

She  was  folding  and  tying  with  a  narrow  rib- 
bon some  papers  as  she  spoke,  and  her  eyes 
snapped  behind  her  glasses. 

"  These  are  the  questions  in  my  hands  now, 
Miss  Morse,"  said  Gee.  "  And  let  me  tell  you, 
they  are  searching  ones.  Be  prepared,  Miss — 
be  prepared ! " 

And  she  popped  them  into  the  top  drawer  on 
the  right-hand  side  of  her  desk.  But  before  she 
could  shut  down  the  roll  top  and  so  lock  the 
desk,  Miss  Gould  appeared  at  the  door  of  the 
room  and  beckoned  to  Miss  Carrington.  The 
latter  rose  hurriedly  and  departed,  leaving  her 
desk  open.  And  likewise  leaving  Jess  Morse,  her 
hungry  eyes  fixed  upon  that  drawer  in  which  the 
examination  questions  lay! 

Just  a  peep  at  those  papers  might  have  helped 
Jess  a  whole  lot  in  the  coming  hour  of  trial. 


CHAPTER   XI 

MISSING 

ALICE  LONG,  who  was  Short  and  Long's  sis- 
ter, was  entertaining  some  of  the  girls  when 
Jess  Morse  came  into  the  recreation  hall  with 
something  her  little  brother  Tommy  had  said. 

"Tommy's  just  going  to  school,  you  know, 
and  he's  beginning  to  ask  questions.  I  guess  he 
stumps  his  teachers  in  the  primary  grade.  He 
heard  the  arithmetic  class  reciting  and  learned 
that  only  things  of  the  same  denomination  can 
be  subtracted  from  each  other. 

"  *  Now,  you  know  that  ain't  so,  Alice,'  says 
he  to  me.  '  For,  can't  you  take  four  quarts  of 
milk  from  three  cows?' 

Jess  didn't  feel  like  laughing;  what  was  com- 
ing after  recess  troubled  her.  She  felt  a  cer- 
tainty that  she  would  fail,  and  she  could  not 
get  over  it. 

"  Besides,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  Gee  Gee  will 
put  the  hardest  questions  on  the  list  to  me — I 
just  know  she  will." 

"What's  the  matter,  Jess?"  asked  Laura, 
67 


88    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

coming  up  to  her  and  squeezing  her  arm. 
"  Something  is  troubling  you,  honey." 

"  And  it  will  trouble  you  after  recess,"  replied 
Jess,  mournfully. 

"The  old  exams?" 

"Uh-huh!" 

"Afraid,  are  you?"  laughed  Mother  Wit. 

"I'm  just  scared  to  death.  And  Gee  Gee 
knows  I'm  not  prepared  and  she  will  be  down  on 
me  like  a  hawk." 

"  Maybe  not." 

"  She  knows  I  am  weak.  She  just  told  me  so, 
and  she  showed  me  the  papers  and  said  there 
were  awfully  hard  questions  in  them.  She  just 
delights  in  catching  us  girls.  And  she  says  all 
of  us  who  are  trying  for  the  prize  are  neglecting 
our  regular  work." 

"  I  expect  we  are,  Jess,"  admitted  Laura. 
"  Oh,  dear!  it's  not  easy  to  write  a  play,  is  it?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jess,  hesitatingly.  "  I'm 
not  sure  that  I  am  writing  a  regular  play.  But 
I'm  writing  something !  " 

"What  does  your  mother  say  about  it?" 

"Oh,  of  course  she  praises  it.     She  would." 

"  I  bet  you  win  the  prize,  Jess ! "  exclaimed 
Laura. 

"  No  such  luck.  And,  anyway,  I  will  take  no 
prize  this  afternoon.  Gee  Gee  threatens  to  take 


MISSING  89 

my  standing  up  with  Mr.  Sharp  if  I  don't  do 
well,  too." 

"  Oh,  don't  worry,  dear.  Perhaps  you  will 
come  out  all  right." 

Bobby  came  swinging  along  and  bumped  into 
them.  "  Oh,  hullo !  "  exclaimed  she.  "  Say ! 
how  do  you  pronounce  '  s-t-i-n-g-y  '  ?  Heh  ?  " 

"  Man  or  wasp  ? "  returned  Mother  Wit, 
quickly. 

Jess  laughed.  "  You  can't  catch  Laura  with 
your  stale  jokes,  Bobby,"  she  gibed. 

"That's  all  right;  I  asked  for  information. 
But  you  girls  don't  know  anything.  You're 
writing  plays.  That's  enough  to  give  you  soft- 
ening of  the  brain.  The  folks  that  know  it  all 
are  the  squabs,"  chuckled  Boboby,  referring  to 
the  freshman  class.  "  What  do  you  suppose  one 
of  them  sprang  this  morning?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea,"  spoke  Laura. 

"  Why,  she  was  asked  to  define  the  difference 
between  instinct  and  intelligence,  and  she  said: 
'  Instinct  knows  everything  needed  without  learn- 
ing it;  but  human  beings  have  reason,  so  we  have 
to  study  ourselves  half  blind  to  keep  from  being 
perfect  fools!'  Now,  what  do  you  know  about 
that?" 

"I  believe  that  child  was  right,"  sighed  Jess. 
"  If  I  only  had  instinct  I  wouldn't  have  to  worry 


90    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

about  the  questions  Gee  Gee  is  going  to  give  us 
this  afternoon." 

"  Oh,  say  not  so !  "  gasped  Bobby,  rolling  her 
eyes  and  putting  up  both  hands.  "  I  am  trying 

to  forget  about  those  exams There's  the 

bell!  Back  to  the  mines!"  she  groaned,  and 
rushed  to  take  her  place  in  the  line. 

The  Junior  class  crowded  into  Miss  Carring- 
ton's  room  and  took  their  seats.  The  examina- 
tion covered  several  of  the  more  important 
studies.  The  teacher  took  her  place,  adjusted 
the  thick  glasses  she  always  wore,  and  looked 
sternly  over  the  room. 

"  Young  ladies,"  she  said,  in  her  most  severe 
manner,  "  I  hope  you  are  all  prepared  for  the 
review.  But  I  doubt  it — I  seriously  doubt  it. 
Some  of  you  have  been  falling  behind  of  late  in 
a  most  astonishing  manner,  and  I  fear  for  your 
standing — I  fear  for  it." 

This  manner  of  approaching  the  exam,  was, 
of  course,  very  soothing  to  the  nervous  girls; 
but  it  was  Gee  Gee's  way  and  they  should  all 
have  been  used  to  it  by  this  time.  She  had 
opened  the  drawer  of  her  desk — the  top  right- 
hand  drawer — and  was  fumbling  in  it. 

Pretty  soon  she  gave  her  entire  attention  to 
sorting  the  papers  in  this  drawer,  which  seemed 
to  be  pretty  full.  As  the  moments  passed,  her 


MISSING  91 

manner  betrayed  the  fact  that  the  teacher  was 
much  disturbed. 

"  Oh !  I  hope  she's  lost  'em ! "  exclaimed  the 
wicked  Bobby  Hargrew. 

"  I  don't,"  returned  the  girl  she  spoke  to. 
"We'd  suffer  for  it." 

"  Well,  I  got  my  fingers  crossed ! "  chuckled 
Bobby.  "  She  can't  accuse  me.  I  wasn't  near 
her  old  desk." 

"Wasn't  it  locked?"  whispered  another  of 
the  waiting  girls. 

Miss  Carrington  heard  the  bustle  in  the  class, 
so  she  sat  up  and  looked  out  over  the  room 
with  asperity. 

"  I  want  to  know  what  this  means,  girls,"  she 
said,  snappily.  "  My  desk  was  left  open  by 
chance  while  I  was  out  of  the  room  for  perhaps 
ten  minutes.  The  examination  papers  were  in 
this  drawer.  Now  I  cannot  find  them.  Has 
somebody  done  this  for  a  joke?  "  and  she  looked 
hard  in  Bobby's  direction. 

"  Look  out,  Bob,"  warned  one  of  her  mates ; 
"  crossing  your  fingers  isn't  going  to  save 
you." 

But  suddenly,  even  while  she  was  speaking, 
Miss  Carrington  seemed  to  be  stabbed  by  a 
thought.  She  started  to  her  feet  and  turned  her 
gaze  upon  the  part  of  the  room  in  which  Jose- 


92    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

phine  Morse  sat.     And  Jess's  face  was  aflame! 

"Miss  Morse!" 

Gee  Gee's  voice  was  never  of  a  pleasing  qual- 
ity. Now  it  startled  every  girl  in  the  room.  Jess 
slowly  arose,  and  she  clung  to  the  corner  of  her 
desk  a  moment  for  support. 

"  Do  you  remember  seeing  me  put  those  ques- 
tion papers  into  this  drawer?  Do  you?"  de- 
manded the  teacher. 

"  Ye — yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Jess. 

"  You  were  standing  right  here  at  my  desk?" 

Jess  nodded,  while  the  whole  class  watched 
her  now  paling  face.  Many  of  the  girls  looked 
amazed;  some  few  looked  angry.  Laura  Reid- 
ing's  eyes  fairly  blazed  and  she  half  rose  from 
her  seat. 

"  Sit  down,  young  ladies ! "  commanded  Miss 
Carrington,  who  was  quick  to  see  these  sugges- 
tive actions  on  the  part  of  the  class.  "  Come 
here  to  me,  Miss  Morse." 

Jess  walked  up  the  aisle.  After  that  first  mo- 
ment her  strength  came  back  and  she  held  her 
head  up  and  stared  straight  into  the  face  of  the 
teacher.  The  tears  that  had  sprung  to  her  eyes 
she  winked  back. 

"  I  had  called  you  to  my  desk,  Miss  Morse," 
said  Gee  Gee,  in  a  low  voice,  and  staring  hard 
at  the  girl,  "  and  had  pointed  out  to  you  that 


MISSING 


93 


this  particular  examination  would  be  a  trying 
one  Is  that  not  a  fact?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  admitted  Jess. 

"Miss  Gould  called  me  and  I  hastily  thrust 
the  papers,  which  I  particularly  told  you  were 
the  question  papers,  into  this  drawer.  Did  I 
not?" 

"  You  did." 

"  And  then  I  hurried  out  of  the  room  without 
locking  the  drawer — without  pulling  down  the 
roll  top  of  the  desk,  indeed.  Is  that  not  so, 
Miss  Morse?" 

"  It  is,"  said  Jess,  getting  better  control  of 
her  voice  now. 

"  And  you  were  left  standing  here.  The 
other  girls  were  gone.  Now,  Miss  Morse,  I 
freely  admit  that  I  am  culpable  in  leaving  such 
important  papers  in  the  way.  I  should  have 
locked  them  up.  I  presume  the  temptation  was 
great " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Carrington !  "  ex- 
claimed the  girl,  more  indignant  than  frightened 
now.  "You  are  accusing  me  without  reason. 
I  would  not  do  such  a  thing " 

"  Not  ordinarily,  perhaps,"  interposed  Miss 
Carrington.  "  But  it  all  came  to  you  in  a  mo- 
ment, I  presume.  And  you  did  not  have  time  to 
put  them  back." 


94    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

This  she  had  said  in  a  low  voice,  so  that  no- 
body but  Jess  heard  her.  But  the  girl's  voice 
rose  higher  as  she  grew  hysterical. 

"Miss  Carrington,  you  are  unfair!  I  never 
touched  them ! " 

"  You  must  admit,  Miss  Morse,  that  circum- 
stances are  very  much  against  you,"  declared 
the  teacher. 

"  I  admit  nothing  of  the  kind.  A  dozen  peo- 
ple might  have  been  in  the  room  while  you  were 
out  and  the  desk  was  open.  Ten  minutes  is  a 
long  time." 

"  You  seem  to  have  thought  out  your  defense 
very  well,  Miss  Morse,"  said  Gee  Gee,  sternly. 
"  But  it  will  not  do.  It  is  too  serious  a  matter 
to  overlook.  I  shall  send  for  Mr.  Sharp,"  and 
she  touched  the  button  which  rang  the  bell  in 
the  principal's  office. 


CHAPTER   XII 

COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENSE 

"  COME  to  order !  "  commanded  Miss  Carring- 
ton,  rapping  on  her  desk  with  a  hard  knuckle. 

She  quickly  gave  the  class  in  general  a  task 
and  sent  Jess  to  her  seat. 

"  I  will  speak  with  you  later,  young  lady,"  she 
said,  in  her  most  scornful  way. 

Jess's  eyes  were  almost  blinded  by  tears  when 
she  went  back  to  her  seat.  But  they  were  angry 
tears.  The  unkind  suspicion  and  accusation  of 
the  teacher  cut  deeply  into  the  girl's  soul.  She 
could  see  some  of  the  girls  looking  at  her  askance 
— girls  like  Hester  Grimes  and  Lily  Pendleton, 
and  their  set.  Of  course,  they  had  not  heard  all 
that  Miss  Carrington  said;  but  they  could  easily 
suspect  And  the  whole  class  knew  that  the 
trouble  was  over  the  disappearance  of  the  papers 
for  the  review. 

Bobby  wickedly  whispered  to  her  neighbor 
that  she  hoped  the  papers  wouldn't  ever  be 
found.  But  that  would  not  help  Jess  Morse  out 
of  trouble. 

95 


96    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

To  Jess  herself,  hiding  her  face  behind  an 
open  book,  the  printed  page  of  which  was  a  mere 
blur  before  her  eyes,  it  seemed  as  though  this 
trouble  would  overwhelm  her.  It  was  worse 
than  the  poverty  she  and  her  mother  had  to  face. 
It  was  worse  than  having  no  party  dress  fit  to 
be  seen  in.  It  was  worse  than  being  refused 
credit  at  Mr.  Closewick's  grocery  store.  It  was 
worse  than  having  old  Mr.  Chumley  hound  them 
for  the  rent 

Reviewing  the  whole  affair  more  calmly,  Jess 
could  understand  that  Miss  Carrington  would 
consider  her  guilty — if  she  could  bring  herself 
to  think  any  girl  of  Central  High  would  do  such 
a  thing. 

Jess  sat  there,  dumb,  unable  to  work,  unable 
to  concentrate  her  mind  on  anything  but  the  hor- 
ribly unjust  accusation  of  her  teacher.  How  she 
disliked  Gee  Gee! 

The  other  girls  were  not  particularly  devoted  to 
the  task  set  them  for  the  moment,  either.  Laura 
did  not  sit  very  near  her  chum  in  this  room. 
She  asked  permission  to  speak  with  Jess  and 
Miss  Carrington  said: 

"No,  Miss  Belding;  sit  down!"  and  she  said 
it  in  her  very  grimmest  way.  Usually  the  teacher 
was  very  lenient  with  Mother  Wit,  for  of  all  her 
pupils  Laura  gave  her  the  least  trouble. 


COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENSE  97 

A  feeling  of  expectancy  controlled  the  whole 
roomful  of  girls.  It  came  to  a  crisis — every  girl 
jumped! — when  the  door  opened  and  Mr.  Sharp 
walked  in. 

The  principal  of  Central  High  seldom  troubled 
the  girls'  class  rooms  with  his  presence.  When 
he  addressed  the  young  ladies  it  was  usually  en 
masse.  He  trusted  Miss  Carrington,  almost  en' 
tirely,  in  the  management  of  the  girls. 

His  rosy  cheeks  shone  and  his  eyes  twinkled 
through  his  glasses  as  he  walked  quickly  to  the 
platform  and  sat  down  beside  Gee  Gee  at  her 
table,  which  faced  the  girls,  whereas  her  rolltop 
desk  was  at  the  rear  of  the  platform,  against  the 
wall  of  the  room. 

Principal  and  teacher  talked  in  low  voices  for 
some  moments.  Mr.  Sharp  cast  no  confusing 
glances  about  the  room.  He  ignored  the  girls, 
as  though  his  entire  business  was  with  their 
teacher. 

At  length  he  looked  around,  smiling  as  usual, 
Mr.  Sharp  was  a  pleasant  and  fair-minded  man 
and  the  girls  all  liked  him.  He  had  their  undi- 
vided attention  in  a  moment,  without  the  rapping 
of  Miss  Carrington's  hard  knuckle  on  the  table 
top.  Bobby  said  that  that  knuckle  of  Gee  Gee's 
middle  finger  had  been  abnormally  developed  by 
continued  bringing  the  class  to  order. 


98    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

'  Young  ladies ! "  said  Gee  Gee,  snappily. 
"  Mr.  Sharp  will  speak  to  you." 

The  principal  looked  just  a  little  annoyed — 
just  a  little;  and  for  only  the  moment  while  he 
was  rising  to  speak.  He  never  liked  to  hear 
his  pupils  treated  like  culprits.  He  usually 
treated  them  at  assembly  with  elaborate  polite- 
ness if  he  had  to  criticise,  and  with  perfect  good- 
fellowship  if  praise  was  in  order.  This  little 
scene  staged  by  Miss  Carrington  grated  on  him. 

"  Our  good  Miss  Carrington,"  said  he,  softly, 
"has  sustained  a  loss.  Important  papers  have 
been  mislaid,  we  will  say." 

He  raised  his  hand  quickly  when  Miss  Carring- 
ton would  have  spoken,  and  she  was  wise  enough 
to  let  him  go  on  in  his  own  way. 

"  Now,  the  question  is :  How  have  the  papers 
been  lost,  and  where  are  they  at  the  present  mo- 
ment? It  is  a  problem — in  deduction,  we  will 
say.  We  must  all  partake  of  the  character  of 
some  famous  detective.  It  used  to  be  a  rule  in 
our  family  when  I  was  a  boy  that,  if  a  thing 
were  lost,  it  was  wisest  to  look  for  it  in  the  most 
unlikely  places  first.  I  can  remember  once,  when 
father  lost  a  horse,  that  mother  insisted  in  shak- 
ing out  all  the  hens'  nests  and  giving  them  new 
nests.  But  father  never  did  find  that  horse." 

The  girls  had  begun  to  smile  now;  and  some 


COUNSEL  FOR   THE   DEFENSE  99 

of  them  giggled.  Miss  Carrington  looked  as 
she  usually  did  when  Mr.  Sharp  joked — it  pained 
her  and  set  her  teeth  on  edge.  Bobby  declared 
she  looked  as  though  she  had  bitten  into  a  green 
persimmon. 

"  Joking  aside,  however,"  continued  the  prin- 
cipal. "  This  loss  is  a  serious  matter.  Suppose 
you  young  ladies  suggest  how  the  question 
papers  to  be  used  in  this  mid-term  examination- 
have  been  whisked  out  of  this  drawer  of  Miss 
Carrington's  desk,  and  hidden  elsewhere?  Can 
it  be  possible  that  it  is  the  prank  of  a  pixy?  Of 
course,  all  of  you  young  ladies  are  too  serious- 
minded  to  do  such  a  thing  yourselves." 

There  was  a  general  laugh,  then,  and  the  strain 
of  the  last  few  minutes  began  to  be  relieved. 
Somehow,  even  Jess  Morse  felt  better. 

"To  suggest  that  anybody  in  this  class — the 
Junior  class  of  Central  High — would  deliberately 
misappropriate  these  questions  is  beyond  imag- 
ination," declared  Mr.  Sharp,  with  sudden  grav- 
it.  "  It  is  a  mistake.  The  mistake  is  explain- 
able. Has  anyone  a  suggestion  to  make  ?  " 

It  was  Laura  Belding  who  broke  the  silence. 
She  asked  her  question  very  modestly,  but  her 
cheeks  were  flushed,  and  she  was  evidently  in- 
dignant. 

"  Is — is  it  positive  that  the  papers  were  put  in 


100    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

that  top  drawer  that  Miss  Carrington  now  has 
open  ?  " 

"  Ask  Miss  Morse !  "  snapped  the  teacher,  be- 
fore Mr.  Sharp  could  reply. 

"We  will.  Nothing  like  corroboration,"  said 
the  principal,  with  a  bow  and  smile.  "  Miss 
Morse?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Jess,  in  a  low  voice,  rising. 
"  I  saw  her  put  them  there.  She  tied  them  into 
a  bundle  by  themselves." 

"You  are  observant,  Miss  Morse,"  said  the 
principal,  smiling  again.  "  Thank  you.  Now, 
Miss  Belding?"  for  Laura  was  still  standing. 

"  I  notice  that  the  drawer  is  very  full,"  said 
Laura,  quietly.  "  May  I  come  upon  the  plat- 
form and  look  at  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  responded  Mr.  Sharp ;  but  Miss 
Carrington  flushed  again,  and  exclaimed : 

"  I  have  searched  that  drawer  thoroughly. 
The  papers  are  not  there." 

Again  Mr.  Sharp  made  a  little  deprecatory 
gesture,  "Come  forward,  Miss  Belding,"  he 
said. 

Mother  Wit  gave  her  chum  a  single  reassuring 
glance.  Somehow,  without  reason,  that  look 
comforted  Jess.  She  still  stood  beside  her  desk, 
too  anxious  to  sit  down  again,  while  Laura  walked 
quietly  forward. 


COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENSE     IQI 

"  That  drawer  is  very  full,  Mr.  Sharp,"  she 
said,  composedly  enough.  "  May  I  take  it 
out?" 

"  Oh,  I've  had  it  out  and  felt  behind  it,"  urged 
Miss  Carrington,  all  of  a  flutter  now. 

"  Maybe  Miss  Belding  can  show  us  some- 
thing we  did  not  know,"  said  the  principal,  in  his 
bantering  way.  It  had  been  he  who  gave  Laura 
her  nickname,  and  he  thought  a  great  deal  of 
the  girl.  He  knew  that  she  had  some  serious 
intention  or  she  would  not  have  come  for- 
ward. 

Laura  pulled  out  the  over-full  drawer  and  set 
it  down  upon  the  carpet. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  there,"  said  Miss  Carrington. 
"  The  packet  was  tied  with  a  mauve  ribbon — a 
narrow  ribbon " 

Laura  pulled  out  the  next  drawer. 

"  Oh,  that's  quite  useless,"  exclaimed  the  lady 
teacher.  "  And  to  have  everything  disarranged 
in  this  way " 

"  We  must  give  the  counsel  for  the  defense 
every  opportunity,  Miss  Carrington,"  said  the 
principal  softly. 

Laura  drew  out  the  third  drawer — just  glanc- 
ing at  the  top  layer  of  papers — and  then  the 
fourth  and  last.  No  bundle  tied  with  a  mauve 
ribbon  appeared. 


102    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  Not  there ! "  exclaimed  Gee  Gee,  and  was 
there  a  spice  of  satisfaction  in  her  voice? 

But  Laura  dropped  upon  ,her  knees,  ran  her 
arm  to  the  shoulder  into  the  aperture  where  the 
last  drawer  came  out,  and  drew  forth  the  missing 
packet  of  papers,  which  lay  crowded  back  upon 
the  carpet. 

"  There ! "  said  Mr.  Sharp,  quite  in  a  matter- 
of-fact  tone,  "  I  have  suggested  to  the  Board  of 
Education  more  than  once  that  all  these  old  un- 
sanitary desks  should  be  done  away  with.  The 
only  roll-top  desk  fit  to  use  in  the  schools  are 
those  which  stand  upon  feet,  the  bottom  of  the 
lower  drawer  being  a  few  inches  from  the  floor. 
Thank  you,  Miss  Belding!  We  will  now  go  on 
with  the  afternoon  session." 

But  he  rested  his  hand  for  a  moment  upon 
Laura's  shoulder,  as  she  was  about  to  step  down 
after  returning  the  drawers  to  their  places  in  the 
desk. 

"  The  counsel  for  the  defense  did  very  well," 
he  whispered,  and  then  left  the  room  as  quietly 
as  he  had  entered  it. 

Mr.  Sharp  had  relieved  Miss  Carrington  of  the 
embarrassment  of  his  presence;  but  she  certainly 
was  troubled  by  the  untoward  incident.  Laura 
returned  to  her  seat  by  the  way  of  Jess's  and 
boldly  squeezed  her  hand.  And  Jess  thanked 


COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENSE 


103 


her,  in  her  heart.  The  rebound  from  being  sus- 
pected of  the  loss  of  the  papers  gave  her  such 
relief  that  the  coming  examination  seemed  much 
less  terrible.  Or  perhaps,  Miss  Carrington  was, 
after  all,  a  little  easy  on  her  that  afternoon;  for 
Jess  Morse  came  through  the  grilling  with  sur- 
prisingly high  marks. 


CHAPTER  XIH 

A  WAY  IS  OPENED 

Bur  Jess  had  had  ample  warning.  There 
would  be  something  important  heard  from  Gee 
Gee  if  she  neglected  the  regular  work  of  her 
classes  to  devote  time  and  thought  to  that  won- 
derful play. 

It  was  hard  to  keep  her  mind  off  a  task  that 
had  so  gripped  her  heart  and  mind.  "The 
Spring  Road  "  was  in  her  thought  almost  con- 
tinually. She  even  dreamed  about  it  at  night. 
And  it  was  a  veritable  wrench  to  get  her  mind 
off  the  idyl  of  youth  she  was  writing  to  set  it 
upon  the  grim  realities  of  Latin,  English,  the 
higher  mathematics,  and  other  school  tasks. 

It  seemed  to  Jess  Morse  as  though  no  other 
piece  of  writing  could  ever  be  so  enthralling  as 
this  she  had  undertaken.  When  she  had  begun 
it  it  was  with  fear  and  trembling.  The  two  hun- 
dred dollar  prize  was  what  spurred  her  to  the 
task.  But  now,  she  fairly  loved  it! 

"  The  Spring  Road  "  was  a  fantasy — a  comedy 
104 


THE   WAY  IS   OPENED 


105 


— a  love  story;  it  was  all  three  in  one,  and  .she 
was  writing  it  with  the  limitations  of  those  who 
would  probably  play  it,  in  mind. 

Many  of  the  contestants  for  Mrs.  Kerrick's 
prize  thought  not  at  all  about  the  players;  but 
already  in  Jess's  mind  was  fixed  who,  of  her 
schoolmates,  would  best  fit  into  the  parts.  There 
was  a  character  who  could  not  gain  much  sym- 
pathy from  the  audience,  but  who  could  wear 
beautiful  clothes — that  would  just  suit  Lily  Pen- 
dleton. 

And  for  the  Spring  Spirits,  in  the  allegory, 
Budding  Tree  and  Laughing  Brook,  who  could 
be  better  fitted  than  Dora  and  Dorothy  Lock- 
wood?  While  the  heroine  of  the  story  must  be 
beautiful  Kate  Protest,  of  the  Senior  class,  and 
the  Truant  Lover  the  sparkling  Launcelot  Darby. 

At  home  matters  were  not  going  as  smoothly 
as  Jess  had  hoped,  after  her  mother  obtained 
regular  work  upon  the  Centerport  Courier.  It 
was  nice  to  get  the  money  regularly  for  that 
work;  but  somehow  Mrs.  Morse  could  not  see 
the  wisdom  of  "  paying  as  you  go."  Jess  could 
not  always  take  cash  with  her  when  she  went  to 
the  stores;  and  if  her  mother  chanced  to  be  out 
herself  and  saw  something  particularly  nice  that 
Jess  was  likely  to  fancy,  she  ordered  it  in  without 
regard  to  how  it  was  to  be  paid  for. 


106    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

But  that  had  always  been  Mrs.  Morse's  way. 
She  was  over-generous  with  Jess  while  she,  her- 
self, went  with  shabby  gloves  and  mended  shoes. 
But  any  sensible  plan  of  retrenchment  in  their 
household  expenses  had  never  been  evolved  in 
her  mind* 

How  they  were  to  meet  the  added  burden  of 
the  January  rent  never  seemed  to  trouble  her. 
Jess  only  spoke  of  it  once  during  that  first  fort- 
night in  December;  then  it  disturbed  her  mother 
so  much  that  the  lamp  of  genius  refused  to  burn 
for  a  whole  day,  and,  with  a  sigh,  the  girl  gave 
over  discussing  the  point. 

Checks  for  her  mother's  stories  came  few  and 
far  between  these  days.  Jess  feared  that  they 
would  soon  owe  Mr.  Hargrew  as  large  a  bill  as 
they  had  at  Mr.  Closewick's  store.  And  as  for 
a  new  dress — well,  the  idea  of  that  was  as  far 
in  the  offing  as  ever. 

All  the  girls  she  knew  well  were  so  busy  scrib- 
bling away  at  their  prize  plays  that,  had  Jess  been 
free  herself  out  of  school  hours,  she  would  have 
been  unable  to  find  any  of  her  usual  companions 
at  leisure. 

Even  Chet  Belding,  who  was  always  at  her 
beck  and  call,  was  terribly  busy  these  days.  He 
and  Lance  Darby  were  hard  at  work  upon  some 
wonderful  sort  of  ice  craft  they  were  building 


THE    WAY  IS   OPENED  107 

down  in  Monson's  old  boathouse,  near  the  Girls' 
Branch  Athletic  League  field  and  boathouse. 

Each  day  saw  the  wintry  winds  grow  colder, 
and  soon  the  ice  upon  Lake  Luna  was  thick 
enough  to  bear.  Some  of  the  more  reckless  boys 
had  skated  out  to  the  steamboat  channel,  which 
had  been  sawed  from  the  open  water  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  lake,  so  that  the  freight  boats  from 
Lumberport  and  Keyport  could  get  to  their  docks. 

Ice  of  such  thickness  on  Lake  Luna  at  this 
early  date,  however,  surprised  even  that  apocry- 
phal person,  "  the  oldest  inhabitant."  And  Jess 
Morse  would  have  been  glad  of  a  new  coat,  or  the 
set  of  furs  that  her  mother  had  talked  about. 
When  she  started  for  school  some  mornings,  the 
first  blast  of  keen  air  off  the  lake  seemed  to  cut 
through  her  like  a  knife.  She  wouldn't  have  had 
her  mother  know  how  really  thin  her  apparel 
seemed  for  anything  in  the  world. 

And,  very  wisely,  she  kept  up  her  gym.  work 
faithfully.  A  few  minutes'  vigorous  exercise 
after  the  regular  day's  work  at  school  was  fin- 
ished put  her  in  a  glow,  made  her  breathe  more 
deeply  and  "  put  a  shine  in  her  eyes,"  as  Bobby 
expressed  it. 

"There  isn't  a  girl  in  the  class  who  doesn't 
need  brisking  up  in  the  gym.  this  weather — un- 
less it's  Eve  Sitz,"  confided  Bobby  to  Laura  and 


log    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Jess  as  they  left  the  gymnasium  building  together 
one  afternoon.  "Girls  are  just  like  cats;  they 
all  like  to  mope  around  the  register  or  the  steam 
radiator  in  cold  weather.  Why,  Lil  Pendleton 
wears  a  lace  shawl  over  her  shoulders  in  the 
house,  and  hangs  over  the  gas-log  like  an  old 
woman.  We  all  ought  to  get  back  into  basket- 
ball— and  at  the  rowing  machines — again.  Once 
a  week  on  the  court  isn't  enough  to  keep  us 
alive." 

"  If  you  knew  the  number  of  things  Eve  Sitz 
does,  in  and  out  of  doors,  before  she  comes  to 
school  in  the  morning,  and  after  she  gets  home 
again,  you  wouldn't  wonder  that  she  keeps  her 
color,  and  is  so  brisk  and  strong,"  laughed  Laura. 

"  I  expect  she  is  a  busy  little  bee,"  admitted 
Bobby. 

"  She  helps  milk  the  cows  night  and  morn- 
ing " 

"  There !  "  interrupted  the  irrepressible  Bobby. 
"  That's  what  I've  always  intended  to  ask  Eve ; 
but  I  forget  it." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Jess. 

"  Why,  when  you  have  finished  milking  a  cow, 
how  do  you  turn  the  milk  off?  " 

"  Isn't  she  the  ridiculous  girl  ? "  chuckled 
Laura,  as  Bobby  ran  up  the  side  street  toward 
her  own  door.  Then  Mother  Wit  turned  on  her 


THE   WAY  IS   OPENED 


109 


chum,  with  her  brisk,  bird-like  way :     "  How's 
the  play  going,  Jess?  " 

"  I'm — I'm  afraid  it's  finished,"  said  her  chum, 
slowly. 

"  *  Afraid ! '  '  repeated  Laura,  in  amazement. 

"  Yes.     As  far  as  I  can  finish  it." 

"  But  you're  not  going  to  give  it  up  in  the 
middle?"  cried  Laura. 

"  No.  It  is  complete.  Only  it  doesn't  satisfy 
me,"  returned  Jess,  shaking  her  head.  "And  it 
never  will." 

"  Ah !  there  speaks  real  genius !  "  declared 
Laura,  smiling. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,"  was  her  friend's  hasty 
reply.  "  I  just  don't  know  enough  to  write  it 
well  enough  to  suit  me." 

"Modesty!" 

"  Sense,"  corrected  Jess,  laughing  a  little  dole- 
fully. "  How  are  you  getting  along?  " 

"  Just  as  Mr.  Sharp  said,  I  am  no  female 
Shakespeare,"  said  Laura.  "But  I  have  hopes 
that  maybe  my  play  isn't  so  bad." 

Jess  was  not  sanguine  about  "  The  Spring 
Road,"  however.  She  knew  that  it  might  be 
written  so  much  better,  if  one  only  knew  how! 

And  while  they  discussed  the  play  Jess  heard 
somebody  calling  her  by  name.  Laura  grabbed 
her  arm  and  pointed. 


HO    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  Isn't  that  Mrs.  Prentice — the  very  rich  Mrs. 
Prentice — in  her  electric  runabout?  And,  I  de- 
clare, Jess!  she's  calling  to  you." 

"  Yes.  I  know  her;  she  wants  me,"  said  Jess 
breathlessly,  and  she  ran  across  the  street  to 
where  the  electric  car  was  standing  beside  the 
curb. 

"  I  want  you,  child,"  said  the  lady,  with  de- 
cision. "  Can  you  excuse  yourself  to  your 
friend?" 

Jess  waved  her  hand  to  Laura,  and  called: 

"  I'll  be  up  after  supper,  dear." 

Laura  nodded,  and  smiled,  and  went  on;  but 
she  was  evidently  puzzled  as  she  turned  to  gaze 
after  the  runabout  as  it  moved  off  swiftly  with 
her  chum  beside  the  lady  in  the  magnificent  furs. 

"  And  how  are  you  and  your  mother  getting 
along?"  asked  Mrs.  Prentice,  as  soon  as  the 
car  had  started. 

"Why — why  about  as  usual,  Mrs.  Prentice," 
stammered  Jess,  who  was  much  puzzled  as  to 
why  the  lady  should  want  her  to  take  this  ride. 
"  Only  mother  is  regularly  employed  by  Mr. 
Prentice,  and  is  very  grateful  for  the  work — as 
you  must  know,  ma'am." 

"  Oh,  don't  speak  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Prentice, 
laughing.  "  I  fancy  that  Pat  is  getting  full  meas- 
ure for  his  money ;  he  usually  does.  But  tell  me, 


THE   WAY  IS   OPENED  m 

child,  are  you  going  to  remain  in  that  cottage 
of  Mr.  Chumley's?" 

"  Why — I  really  don't  know,  Mrs.  Prentice. 
There  seems  no  other  place  to  go " 

"  He  is  horribly  overcharging  you,  child,"  said 
the  lady,  quickly. 

"  I  know.  But  there  are  so  few  small  places 
in  decent  neighborhoods — mother  says  she 
doesn't  know  what  to  do  about  it." 

"I  fancy,  Jessica Is  that  your  name?" 

"  Josephine,  Mrs.  Prentice ;  only  they  all  call 
me  Jess." 

"  Very  well — Jess.  Sounds  a  good  practical 
name — and  you  are  a  practical  girl;  I  can  see 
that.  Now,  Jess,  I  fancy  you  have  to  do  some- 
thing yourself  toward  moving,  to  get  your  mother 
started,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh !  but  I  don't  know  where  to  go " 

The  car  began  to  slow  down.  Mrs.  Prentice 
had  run  into  a  quiet  side  street,  not  two  blocks 
from  the  cottage  at  the  foot  of  Whiffle  Street. 

"  See  here,"  said  the  lady,  stopping  the  motor 
and  preparing  to  alight.  "  I  want  you  to  see  this 
little  dove-cote — that's  what  I  have  always  called 
it.  It  is  set  behind  a  grassy  front  yard  and  there 
is  a  little  garden  at  the  back.  You'll  love  it 
in  spring  and  summer." 

"  Oh,  but  Mrs.  Prentice,  is  it  empty?  " 


112    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"It's  too  empty.  That's  the  trouble.  The 
tenant  I  had  left  unexpectedly."  She  neglected 
to  say  that  she  had  paid  the  tenant  a  certain  sum 
to  leave  the  cottage  and  move  into  another  house. 
"  I  don't  want  the  house  empty  during  the  cold 
weather.  I  have  paid  to  have  a  fire  kept  up  in 
the  furnace  for  a  week  so  that  the  pipes  would 
not  freeze.  Come  in." 

It  was  a  dear  little  cottage;  Jess  Morse  was 
delighted  with  it.  And  so  much  more  convenient 
than  Mr.  Chumley's.  Besides,  there  was  a  good 
reason  why  the  owner  paid  to  have  the  fires  kept 
up  all  this  week  of  cold  weather.  Every  room 
was  fresh  with  paint  and  paper — the  smell  of 
varnish  was  still  plain.  It  was  really  a  delight- 
ful little  place  and  the  furniture  at  home  would 
fit  into  the  several  rooms  so  nicely! 

Jess  Morse  saw  all  this  at  once.  She  was  de- 
lighted   And  two  dollars  less  a  month  than 

the  cottage  in  which  they  had  lived  so  long! 

"  It  is  a  way  opened,  Mrs.  Prentice ! "  she  mur- 
mured. "  Better  than  we  could  ever  expect.  I 
thank  you  from  the  very  bottom  of  my  heart!" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

IN    SUSPENSE 

BUT  when  Jess  got  home — and  Mrs.  Prentice 
took  her  there  in  the  car,  but  would  not  come  in 
herself — she  had  hard  work  to  satisfy  her  mother 
that  such  a  change  as  this  opportunity  suggested 
was  a  good  one  for  them  to  make.  In  short, 
Mrs.  Morse  did  not  enthuse. 

"  Just  think  of  the  trouble  of  it  all,"  she  sighed. 
"  My  dear  Jess,  we  have  been  here  so  long " 

"  But  Mr.  Chumley  doesn't  want  us  any  lon- 
ger," interposed  Jess. 

"  Tut,  tut !  that  is  only  the  old  gentleman's 
way.  He  really  will  not  raise  our  rent,  do  you 
think?" 

"Why,  Mother!"  expostulated  the  girl,  "he 
has  already  raised  it  and  threatened  to  put  us  out 
if  we  don't  find  the  increased  three  dollars  on 
the  first." 

"I  am  afraid  you  were  not  politic  enough," 
said  her  mother. 

"One  cannot  be  politic  with  Mr.  Chumley. 
"3 


114    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

He  wants  his  house  for  another  tenant;  he  has 
as  good  as  said  so.  And  do  come  and  see  Mrs. 
Prentice's  little  cottage.  It  is  a  love." 

Even  after  she  had  seen  it,  however,  Mrs. 
Morse  was  doubtful.  She  shrank  from  the 
change. 

"  And  think  of  the  expense  of  moving,"  she 
declared. 

"  But  the  two  dollars  less  we  pay  a  month  will 
soon  pay  for  that"  said  Jess,  eagerly. 

"Well — er — perhaps,"  admitted  her  mother, 
doubtfully. 

Jess  had  to  do  it  all,  however.  She  had  to  at- 
tend to  every  detail  of  the  change.  Fortunately 
her  mother  received  a  check  of  some  size  and  the 
daughter  obtained  a  part  of  it  for  current  ex. 
penses.  She  .hired  a  truckman,  packed  most  oi 
their  possessions  after  school  hours,  and  saw  to 
the  setting  up  of  their  goods  and  chattels  in 
the  new  home. 

There  were  several  tons  of  furnace  coal  in  the 
cellar  of  the  new  home.  In  the  old  cottage  there 
had  been  no  heater.  Mrs.  Prentice  told  Jess  that 
she  could  pay  for  the  coal  a  little  at  a  time,  and 
the  girl  gladly  availed  herself  of  this  advantage. 

For  the  winter  promised  to  be  a  severe  one. 
Since  frost  had'  set  in  in  earnest  there  had  been 
no  let-up.  Jess  and  her  mother  moved  during 


JN  SUSPENSE  115 

the  short  holiday  vacation.  The  day  school 
closed;  the  contestants  for  the  prize  offered  by 
Mrs.  Kerrick  handed  in  their  plays.  The  an- 
nouncement of  the  successful  one  would  be  after 
the  intermission — on  the  first  Monday  of  the 
New  Year. 

When  the  Morses  really  came  to  remove  their 
goods  from  the  house  in  which  they  had  lived  so 
long,  old  Mr.  Chumley  would  have  liked  to  get 
out  an  injunction  against  their  doing  so. 

"  I  never  thought  you'd  do  it,  Widder ! "  he 
croaked,  having  hurried  over  the  minute  he  heard 
the  moving  man  was  at  the  door.  "  Why — why 
mebbe  we  could  .have  split  the  difference.  P'r'aps 
three  dollars  a  month  more  was  a  leetle  steep." 

"  Oh,  dear  me !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Morse.  "  Really, 
Mr.  Chumley,  this  is  Jess's  doings.  She  thinks 
the  change  will  be  better  for  us " 

"  Now  then !  I  wouldn't  let  no  young'un  snap 
me  like  I  was  the  end  of  a  whip ! "  cried  the  old 
man.  "You  bundle  your  things  back  into  the 
house,  and  we'll  call  it  only  a  one-fifty  raise." 

But  here  Jess  interfered.  "  Are  you  prepared 
to  take  two  dollars  off  the  rent,  instead  of  adding 
any,  and  will  you  make  the  repairs  we  have  been 
asking  for  all  this  year,  Mr.  Chumley?  "  she  de- 
manded, briskly. 

"  My  goodness  me !    I  can't.     It  ain't  possible. 


Il6    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

The  property  don't  bring  me  enough  as  it  is." 

"  Then  there's  no  use  talking  to  us,"  said  Jess, 
drawing  her  arm  through  her  mother's.  "  Mrs. 
Prentice's  house  is  all  freshly  done  over,  and  has 
a  heater,  which  this  house  hasn't,  and  everything 
is  in  spick  and  span  order." 

"  That  Mrs.  Prentice !  I  might  ha*  knowed 
it !  "  cackled  Mr.  Chumley.  "  And  she  was  for 
having  you  arrested  for  stealing  once." 

This  was  the  very  first  Mrs.  Morse  had  heard 
about  the  night  Jess  had  had  her  queer  experi- 
ence, and  she  had  to  be  told  all  about  it  now. 
She  saw  at  once  that  her  own  regular  work  for 
the  Courier  arose  out  of  her  daughter's  acquaint- 
ance with  the  wealthy  Mrs.  Prentice. 

"And  she  is  one  of  the  leaders  in  our  Hill 
society !  "  gasped  the  poor  lady.  "  I  declare !  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  face  her  again — although 
I  have  only  a  bowing  acquaintance  with  her.  She 
will  very  well  know  who  is  putting  all  the  society 
items  into  the  paper." 

"  Well,  it's  honest,"  said  Jess,  stubbornly. 

"  My  goodness  me !  How  practical  you  are, 
Jess,"  exclaimed  her  mother.  "  Isn't  anything 
but  bread-and-butter,  and  such  things,  appealing 
to  you  in  life,  child?  " 

Jess  did  not  answer.  She  was  naturally  as 
frivolous  of  mind  as  any  other  girl  of  her  age, 


IN  SUSPENSE  117 

only  the  happenings  in  their  domestic  life  of 
the  last  few  weeks  had  made  her  far  more 
thoughtful. 

And  really,  the  little  dove-cote,  as  Mrs.  Pren- 
tice had  called  their  new  home,  was  a  veritable 
love  of  a  place!  Mrs.  Morse  had  to  admit  her- 
self that  it  was  a  great  improvement  over  tho 
house  where  they  had  lived  so  long. 

As  it  was  vacation  week,  she  let  Jess  go  right 
ahead  to  settle  things  while  she  stuck  to  the  type- 
writer. And  Jess  was  glad  to  have  plenty  to  oc- 
cupy her  mind1.  The  suspense  of  waiting  for  the 
committee  to  decide  upon  the  winner  of  the  prize 
was  hard  to  endure  indeed. 

One  evening,  however,  Chet  came  after  her, 
for  there  was  a  big  moonlight  skating  party  on 
Lake  Luna.  By  this  time  people  who  had  horses 
and1  sleighs  had  made  quite  a  trotting  course 
from  Centerport  to  Keyport  in  one  direction,  and 
from  Centerport  to  Lumberport  at  the  other  end 
of  the  lake. 

There  were  certain  motor  enthusiasts,  too,  who 
had  rigged  their  cars  so  that  they  would  travel 
on  the  ice;  but  Chet  Belding  and  Lance  Darby 
had  beaten  them  all.  The  trotting  course  hugged 
the  shore,  the  skaters  followed  the  same  course, 
but  farther  out  on  the  ice,  and  beyond,  toward 
the  middle  of  the  lake,  the  iceboats  had-  free 


118    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

swing.  And  there  were  several  very  fast  "  scoot- 
ers  "  and  the  like  upon  Lake  Luna. 

But  Laura's  brother  and  his  chum  declared 
that  "  they'd  got  'em  all  beat  to  a  stiff  froth ! " 
And  on  this  night  they  produced  the  finished  pro- 
duct of  their  joint  work  for  the  last  several 
weeks. 

"What  do  we  call  it?  The  Blue  Streak!" 
declared  Chet.  "  And  that's  the  way  she  travels. 

We  tried  her  out  this  morning  and Well, 

you  girls  will  admit  that  you  never  traveled  fast 
before." 

"My  goodness  me,  Laura!  Do  you  think  it 
is  safe  for  us  to  venture  with  them?  "  demanded 
Jess. 

"  If  Chet  brings  me  home  in  pieces  he  knows 
what  mother  will  do  to  him,"  returned  her  chum, 
laughing. 

The  novel  boat  certainly  attracted  considerable 
attention  when  the  boys  ran  it  out  of  the  old 
boathouse  and  pushed  it  far  away  from  the  skat- 
ing course.  It  combined  the  principles  of  an  air- 
craft with  runners  of  the  familiar  iceboat. 

"Just  call  it  an  aero-iceyacht,  and  let  it  go  at 
that,"  said  Chet.  "  That  hits  it  near  enough." 

"  And  it  really  can  sail  in  the  air  or  on  the  ice 
— like  a  hydroplane  ?  "  demanded  Jess. 

"  You'll  think  so,"  Chet  assured  her. 


IN  SUSPENSE  119 

The  boat  was  driven  by  a  propeller  similar  to 
those  on  aeroplanes;  and  this  propeller  was  fast- 
ened to  the  crossbeam  on  which  were  the  two  for- 
ward runners — somewhat  similar  to  the  mast  on 
the  ordinary  lake  iceboat.  The  body  and  rud- 
der plank,  at  right  angles  to  this  crossbeam,  sup- 
ported the  two-cylinder  gasoline  engine,  which 
Chet  bought  at  the  motor  repair  shop  of  Mr. 
Purcell. 

It  was  a  fourteen-horse-power  engine,  water- 
cooled.,  and  geared  with  a  chain  to  the  propeller. 

"  We  tried  a  belt  first,"  said  Lance ;  "  but  the 
blamed  thing  slipped  so  that  old  Chet  evolved  the 
chain-gear  idea.  Great,  eh  ?  " 

"How  can  we  tell  till  we  see  it  work?"  de- 
manded Laura. 

"And  you  don't  have  to  He  down  for  'low 
bridge '  when  the  boom  goes  over  on  this  ice- 
yacht  !  "  cried  Jess,  enthusiastically.  "  We  can 
sit  up." 

"  All  the  time,"  agreed  Lance. 

"  I  think  it's  simply  great ! "  declared  Laura. 

"All  because  you,  Mother  Wit,  suggested  us- 
ing the  kite  for  motive  power  that  day,"  said  her 
brother,  admiringly.  "  That  gave  us  the  idea. 
If  a  kite  would  give  motive  power  to  a  man  skat- 
ing, why  not  use  a  more  up-to-date  air-power 
scheme  on  the  ice?  " 


i20    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  And  it  worked !  "  shouted  Lance. 

"  Oh,  hurry !  "  criedi  Jess.  "  I'm  crazy  to  see 
how  it  sails." 

The  boys  placed  the  girls  amidships,  and 
showed  them  how  to  cling  to  the  straps  on  either 
side.  Lance  took  his  place  on  the  crossbeam — 
to  act  as  weight  on  either  end  if  such  balance 
was  needed;  Chet  took  the  tiller. 

"  Open  her  up ; "  the  latter  commanded  his 
chum.  "Only  quarter  round  with  the  switch 
when  the  engine  gets  her  stroke.  Now,  careful ! 
Hang  on,  girls !  " 

The  next  moment  the  engine  began  to  throb 
regularly,  and  the  blades  of  the  propeller  whirled. 
In  half  a  minute  they  had  gained  such  momen- 
tum that  the  eye  could  not  distinguish  the  blades 
themselves — they  simply  made  a  bl*r  in  the 
moonlight. 

The  craft  lunged  ahead. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  MILE  A   MINUTE 

THE  moon,  hanging  low  upon  the  horizon, 
was  young  but  brilliant.  The  air  was  so  keen 
and  clear  that  without  the  help  of  the  moonlight 
it  seemed  as  though  the  stars  must  have  flooded 
the  lake  with  white  light. 

Nearer  the  southern  shore  the  jingle  of  sleigh- 
bells  and'  the  laughter  and  shouting  of  the  skaters 
marked  the  revelers  who  gave  a  free  course  to 
the  ice-boats  out  here  nearer  the  open  water. 
For  both  east  and  west  of  Cavern  Island,  which 
lay  in  the  middle  of  Lake  Luna,  opposite  Center- 
port,  the  ice  was  either  unsafe,  or  there  were  long 
stretches  of  open  water.  The  freight  boats  up 
and  down  the  lake  kept  this  channel  open. 

But  there  was  a  wide  and  safer  course  before 
the  flying  aero-iceboat.  And  soon  she  was  mov- 
ing so  fast  that  the  girls  heard  nothing  but  the 
shriek  of  the  wind  rushing  by. 

Here  and  there  before  them  lanterns  glowed 
like  huge  fireflies.  These  lights  were  in  the  rig- 
ging of  several  ice-yachts.  Chet  and  Lance  had 
121 


122     GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

a  pair  of  automobile  searchlights  rigged  forward 
on  their  own  boat. 

Another  yacht  had  started  from  the  old  boat- 
house  at  about  the  time  our  friends  and  their 
new-fangled  craft  got  under  way.  There  were 
girls  aboard  it,  too;  but  at  first  the  Beldings  and 
Jess  and  Lance  did  not  recognize  the  other  party. 

The  strange  yacht  was  distinguished,  however, 
by  a  red  and  green  lamp.  As  Chet  had  been  slow 
in  starting,  the  other  boat  got  ahead.  But  now, 
although  the  wind  was  fair  and  the  other  yacht 
traveled  splendidly,  the  aero-iceboat  bore  down 
upon  it,  beating  it  out  and  leaving  it  behind  like 
an  express  train  going  by  a  freight. 

However,  Chet  would  not  allow  Lance  to 
throw  on  all  speed.  There  were  too  many  other 
craft  on  the  ice  before  them — and  it  was  night. 

The  lights  of  the  City  of  Centerport  soon  fell 
behind  them;  then,  almost  at  once,  they  picked 
up  the  lights  of  Keyport  at  the  extreme  end  of 
the  lake.  They  were  traveling  some! 

Chet  .had  strapped  on  a  megaphone,  which  he 
had  borrowed  from  Short  and  Long,  who  was 
coxswain  of  the  boys'  Central  High  eight-oared 
shell,  and  through  this  he  shouted  his  orders  to 
Lance.  They  ran  down  within  a  mile  of  Key- 
port,  and  then  shut  off  the  engine  and  circled 
about  on  the  momentum  they  had  gained.  There 


A   MILE  A    MINUTE  123 

were  too  many  skaters  and  sleighs  on  the  ice 
down  here  to  make  ice-boating  either  safe  or 
pleasurable. 

"My  goodness  me!  Wasn't  that  fun?" 
gasped  Jess. 

"  Felt    like    you   was    traveling   some,    eh  ? " 

"  Oh,  Chet !  it  was  great !  " 

"  It  certainly  is  a  fine  boat,  Bobby,"  agreed 
Laura.  "  You  and  Launcelot  have  done  well." 

"  Wait !  "  said  Lance,  warningly. 

"Wait  for  what?"  demanded  Laura. 

"  We  didn't  travel  that  time.  We  were  only 
preparing  you — warming  her  up,  as  it  were. 
Wait  till  we  let  her  out." 

"  My  goodness !  "  cried  Jess.  "  Can  you  go 
faster?" 

"  We'll  show  you,  going  home,"  said  Chet. 

Just  then  the  boat  with  the  green  and  red  light 
swooped  down  upon  them  and  a  voice  shouted: 

"  What  kind  of  a  contraption  is  that  you've 
got  there,  Belding?" 

"  Hullo !  "  exclaimed  Chet.  "  That's  Ira  So- 
bel's  yacht.  Ira  is  Purt  Sweet's  cousin."  Then 
he  answered:  "  Oh,  this  is  a  little  rigging  of  my 
own,  Mr.  Sobel.  But  she  can  travel.  Rather 
beat's  your  Nighthawk,  eh  ?  " 

"Well,  she  did  that  time,"  admitted  Sobel, 
doubtfully. 


124    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  My  goodness  me ! "  the  friends  heard  the 
Central  High  dandy  exclaim.  "  I  weally  wouldn't 
want  to  travel  any  faster,  Ira.  I — I  haven't 
weally  got  my  breath  yet !  " 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  cried  another  voice  from  the  ice- 
boat, and  they  recognized  Lily  Pendleton's. 
"  What  do  you  think  about  the  prize  ?  Did  you 
hear?" 

"  Why,  they  haven't  decided  on  the  best  play 
yet,  have  they?  "  returned  Jess,  eagerly,  and  be- 
fore her  chum  could  speak. 

"No.  But  I  heard  they'd  put  it  all  into  Mr. 
Monterey's  hands.  He's  the  manager  of  the 
Opera  House,  you  know.  And  mother  is  very 
well  acquainted  with  him.  You  girls  laughed  at 
my  play " 

"  Not  I,  Lily,"  interrupted  Laura,  good-natur- 
edly. "  I  was  too  afraid  that  the  rest  of  you 
might  have  a  chance  to  laugh  at  mine." 

"  Well,  I  bet  I've  a  good  chance  to  win.  Mr. 
Monterey  is  real  nice,  and  mother  is  going  to  see 
him." 

"Pooh!"  exclaimed  Chet  "She's  one  of 
those  people  who  think  influence  brings  things 
about.  Don't  you  be  worried,  girls;  I  bet  Mr. 
Sharp  won't  let  anybody  get  that  prize  through 
favoritism." 

"That's  very  encouraging,   Chet,"   said  Jess. 


A  MILE  A    MINUTE 


125 


"But  perhaps  Lily  will  win  it.  You  know,  she 
goes  to  plays  more  than  any  other  girl  in  the 
Junior  class  of  Central  High,  that's  true.  And 
she  reads  novels — real  silly  ones.  Maybe  she 
knows  how  to  write  just  what  would  please  a 
theatrical  manager." 

"  Pooh !  "  said  Laura,  "  I'm  not  giving  up  all 
hope  yet — especially  because  of  Lil  Pendleton's 
say-so." 

"Now,  look  out!"  shouted  Lance.  "All 
ready  to  go  back,  Chet?" 

"  Start  her !  "  exclaimed  his  chum.  "  Cling 
tight,  girls — and  take  a  good  breath.  I  want 
to  time  this  trip.  It's  all  of  nine  miles  to  the 
starting  point  and  we'll  show  you " 

His  voice  trailed  off  and  the  girls  did  not  hear 
the  rest  of  his  speech.  The  big  propeller-wings 
began  to  beat  the  air,  and  the  sound  rose  to  a 
keen  buzzing.  Chet  snapped  his  watch  back  into 
his  pocket,  raised  his  hand,  and  the  ice-boat  tore 
ahead. 

In  twenty  seconds  the  wind  rushed  past  them 
so  that  the  girls  were  forced  to  bend  their  heads. 
The  way  was  clear  and  Lance  had  "  let  her  out." 
Chet  bent  sidewise  watching  the  ice  through  his 
goggles.  Occasionally  he  screamed  an  order  to 
his  chum,  who  signalled  with  his  hand  that  he 
heard  and  understood. 


126    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

It  was  like  the  flight  of  a  meteor!  Laura  and 
Jess  never  had  realized  before  what  it  meant  to 
travel  fast.  Motoring  on  land  was  nothing  like 
this.  As  though  shot  out  of  some  huge  cannon 
the  aero-iceboat  skimmed  the  lake.  The  wind 
was  almost  in  their  faces,  but  that  made  little 
difference  to  this  new  invention  of  the  chums. 

The  other  yachts  had  to  tack  against  the  wind ; 
not  so  the  aero-iceboat.  Swift  and  straight  she 
flew  and  suddenly  Chet  roared  to  Lance  to  shut 
down,  and  the  propeller  groaningly  stopped. 

Chet  flung  up  his  goggles  and  drew  out  his 
watch. 

"Eight  and  a  half  minutes!"  he  cried,  with 
glee.  "  And,  as  I  told  you,  it's  a  good  nine 
miles." 

"  Let  me  off !  let  me  off ! "  gasped  his  sister, 
struggling  down  from  the  narrow  body  of  the 
boat.  "  Why !  I  never  want  to  travel  any  faster, 
Chet.  Do  you  think  it  is  safe?  " 

"  You  bet  it  is,  Miss  Laura,"  said  Lance. 
"  Or  we  wouldn't  have  invited  you  girls  to  go 
with  us." 

"Just  wait  till  some  day — say  Saturday.  By 
daylight  I'd  drive  this  thing  faster  than  that.  I 
tell  you,  we've  got  the  speediest  craft  on  the 
whole  lake." 

"It  beats  what  Mrs.  Case  told  us  about  ski 


A   MILE  A    MINUTE 


127 


running  in  Sweden,"  cried  Jess,  who  was  de- 
lighted with  the  experience.  "  And  if  Mrs. 
Case  starts  a  class  to  travel  on  skis  this  winter, 
I  want  to  be  in  it." 

"  Well !  it's  all  right  to  hear  about.  But  the 
experience  is  sort  of  shaking,"  sighed  Laura. 
"  I'm  not  sure  that  I  have  an  over-abundance 
of  pluck,  after  all." 


CHAPTER  XVI 


"JUST   LIKE   A   STORY   BOOK 


THE  Morses  were  completely  settled  in  their 
little  house  before  school  opened.  Jess  had  had 
a  busy  vacation,  but  aside  from  her  ride  on 
Chet's  and  Lance's  Blue  Streak  she  had  joined 
in  little  of  the  holiday  fun  of  her  mates  at  Cen- 
tral High. 

There  was  one  basketball  game  during  the 
holiday  recess.  Central  High  met  the  Keyport 
team  on  their  own  court  and  outplayed  them 
most  decidedly;  therefore  the  athletic  temperat- 
ure went  up  several  degrees. 

Mrs.  Case,  the  physical  instructor  of  Central 
High,  was  an  enthusiastic  out-of-doors  woman, 
and  as  a  heavy  snow  fell  about  New  Year's  she 
easily  interested  the  girls  under  her  instruction 
in  skiing.  This  exercise,  she  pointed  out,  might 
take  the  place  of  the  fortnightly  walking  expedi- 
tions during  the  snowy  weather,  and  there  was  so 
much  broken  country  behind  Centerport  that  the 
sport  could  be  indulged  in  with  profit. 

The  boys  were  getting  so  much  sport  out  of 
128 


"JUST  LIKE  A  STORY  BOOK" 


129 


ice  hockey  that — as  the  league  approved  of  that 
form  of  exercise — the  physical  instructor  intro- 
duced it  on  the  girls'  athletic  field.  The  field 
could  be  flooded,  and  had  been;  now  it  was  a  per- 
fectly smooth  piece  of  ice  and  upon  it  those  of 
the  older  girls  who  were  already  good  skaters, 
had  a  chance  to  learn  the  mysteries  of  hockey. 

"  Huh !  Father  Tom  says  it's  nothing  but  old' 
fashioned  '  shinny '  with  a  fancy  name  tacked 
onto  it,"  declared  Bobby  Hargrew.  "But  my! 
isn't  it  fun?" 

Jess  and  her  chum,  as  well  as  the  irrepressible, 
"  took  "  to  hockey,  and  there  were  enough  of  the 
other  girls  interested  for  two  good  teams  to  be 
made  up. 

Hester  Grimes  captained  one  team  and  Laura 
the  other.  There  was  still  some  little  feeling  of 
rivalry  between  Hester  and  Mother  Wit — per- 
haps not  much  on  the  side  of  the  latter;  but  the 
wholesale  butcher's  daughter  was  inclined  to  be 
overbearing,  and  was  never  really  satisfied  unless 
she  had  an  important  part  in  whatever  went  on. 

The  struggle  between  the  two  teams  for  su- 
premacy among  the  girls  of  Central  High  in  this 
particular  sport  really  led,  however,  to  good  re- 
sults. Hester  was  backed  by  strong  players ;  and 
being  so  muscular  a  girl  herself  she  carried  her 
side  to  victory  two  out  of  every  three  times. 


130    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"We  ought  to  beat  her — she'll  get  too  uppity 
to  live  with,"  declared  Bobby,  discussing  these 
games. 

"  It  will  do  us  good  to  be  beaten  occasionally," 
laughed  Laura.  "You  begin  to  think,  Bobby, 
that  you  must  belong  to  the  winning  side  all  the 
time." 

"Yes.  Who  doesn't?"  sniffed  Miss  Har- 
grew.  "  It's  all  right — all  this  talk  about  play- 
ing the  game  for  the  game's  sake ;  but  right  down 
in  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  don't  all  of  us  play 
to  win?  If  we  don't,  we  never  play  well,  that's 
as  sure  as  shooting." 

When  the  school  re-opened,  however,  on  the 
first  Monday  in  January,  the  subject  uppermost 
in  the  minds  of  the  girls  of  Central  High  was  the 
prize  contest  in  play-writing  for  the  M.  O.  R's. 
The  girls  crowded  into  Assembly  that  morning, 
all  on  the  qui  vive  to  hear  what  the  principal 
would  have  to  say. 

But  after  the  opening  exercises,  when  Mr. 
Sharp  came  forward  to  speak,  he  surprised  every- 
body by  saying: 

"  We  are  not  ready  to  report  upon  the  matter 
of  the  plays.  Mr.  Monterey  will  confer  with  us 
at  noon,  and  before  school  is  dismissed  to-day 
we  will  announce  the  winner. 

"  It  is  not  often  that  a  committe  having  in 


"JUST  LIKE   A    STORY  BOOK"  131 

charge  the  decision  of  the  winner  in  an  amateur 
play-writing  competition  has  the  happiness  to 
be  aided  by  a  professional  manager  of  a  theater, 
and  a  man,  too,  who  has  produced  plays  of  im- 
portance himself. 

"Mr.  Monterey's  knowledge  of  what  will  act 
well  will  make  our  final  decision,  I  believe,  one 
that  will  strike  all  competitors  as  eminently  fair. 
We  have  tried  to  decide  upon  the  prize  winner 
in  a  way  that  will  satisfy  the  giver  of  the  prize, 
too — Mrs.  Kerrick.  She  demanded  a  play  that 
would  act  well  and  that  will  draw  an  audience 
because  of  its  dramatic  value  as  a  play — not 
merely  because  it  is  written  by  a  girl  of  Central 
High,  or  is  performed  by  the  girls  and  their 
friends  for  the  benefit  of  the  M.  O.  R's. 

"  Before  the  day  closes,  I  can  promise  you, 
the  decision  will  be  made  and  the  name  of  the 
prize-winner,  and  of  the  title  of  the  play,  will  be 
announced.  You  are  excused  to  your  lessons  for 
the  morning." 

The  buzz  of  excitement — especially  from  the 
girls'  side — when  Mr.  Sharp  had  ceased  speak- 
ing, could  scarcely  be  controlled.  Not  even  Miss 
Carrington's  basilisk  eye  could  quell  it. 

Of  course,  poor  Bobby  fell  a  victim  to  Gee 
Gee's  sour  temper.  She  thought  the  teacher  had 
long  since  reached  the  class  room,  and  she  was 


132    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

gabbling  away  to  Nell  Agnew  and  Jess  "  six- 
teen to  the  dozen,"  as  she  would  have  said  her- 
self. When  out  of  a  door  popped  the  bespec- 
tacled Miss  Carrington,  grimmer  and  more  stern 
than  usual. 

"  Indeed,  Miss !  are  you  supposed  to  rattle 
away  like  that  about  matters  entirely  foreign 
to  your  lessons,  on  the  way  to  class  room  ? " 
demanded  the  teacher. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  Miss  Carrington,"  exclaimed  the 
contrite  Bobby  (she  always  was  contrite  when 
caught  in  a  fault,  for  all  her  sauciness  and  light- 
ness arose  from  thoughtlessness)  "I  really  for- 
got— I  did  not  mean  to  make  a  noise  in  the  cor- 
ridor." 

"  Humph !  did  not  mean — did  not  mean  ? 
What  excuse  is  that,  pray?  " 

"  Not  a  very  good  one,  I  am  afraid,"  admitted 
Bobby.  "  But  I  truly  did  not  intend  to  break  a 
rule.  We  were  all  so  much  interested  in  the 
play " 

"  Yes.  Quite  so.  It  is  evident  that  I  will  get 
little  out  of  you  young  ladies  until  the  matter 
of  this  silly  play  is  settled.  I  presume  you  are 
one  of  the  contestants,  Miss  Clara?" 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Carrington,"  said  Bobby, 
demurely.  "  I  did  start  to  write  one.  It — it 
would  have  been  a  tragedy  based  upon  several 


"JUST  LIKE  A   STORY  BOOK" 


133 


of  the  main  incidents  in  the  Punic  Wars.  But 
I  found  that  to  give  the  matter  proper  attention 
I  should  be  obliged  to  neglect  some  of  the  studies, 

and " 

'  That  will  do,  Miss  Hargrew,"  interposed  the 
teacher,  severely.  "You  bring  me  on  Friday 
afternoon  a  resume  of  those  same  Punic  Wars — 
say  a  thousand  words.  I  shall  learn  thereby  just 
how  much  you  know  about  the  subject  you  se- 
lected for  your  play." 

Perhaps  Bobby  deserved  what  she  got;  but 
she  "  pulled  a  dreadfully  long  face "  about  it, 
while  the  other  girls  were  inclined  to  enjoy  her 
chagrin. 

As  for  Jess  Morse,  it  seemed  to  her  that  the 
waiting  for  the  announcement  of  the  prize-win- 
ner was  too  hard  a  cross  to  bear.  So  much  de- 
pended upon  the  decision  of  the  committee — it 
did  seem  as  though  she  could  not  keep  her  mind 
upon  the  lessons. 

If  she  won — if  she  won! — there  would  be  plain 
sailing  in  the  domestic  waters  of  the  Morses'  life 
— and  that  had  come  to  mean  a  great  deal  to  the 
girl.  For  even  Mrs.  Prentice's  kindness  to  them 
had  not  cleared  away  all  the  troubles  for  Jess 
Morse. 

True,  the  account  at  Mr.  Closewick's  had  been 
paid.  Jess,  too,  had  seen  to  it  that  the  month's 


134    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

rent  for  their  new  home  was  met  and  a  little 
something  paid  each  week  on  the  running  store 
accounts. 

But  when  Mrs.  Morse  drew  her  salary  for  the 
last  week  from  the  Courier — and  it  amounted  to 
nearly  ten  dollars  that  week — she  had  been 
obliged  to  pay  the  money  over  to  her  dressmaker. 
She  had  found  it  necessary  to  order  a  new  cos- 
tume, if  she  was  to  follow  the  fashionable  recep- 
tions, and  the  like,  on  the  Hill.  This  matter  of 
her  mother  being  a  society  reporter,  Jess,  feared, 
would  cost  them  more  in  the  end  than  it  was 
worth  to  them. 

And  now  they  began  the  New  Year  with  posi- 
tively nothing  in  the  family  purse.  And  there 
was  so  much  needed.  There  would  be  another 
reception  at  the  M.  O.  R.  house  this  very  week 
and  Jess  told  herself  that  she  could  not  go  be- 
cause of  her  lack  of  a  gown.  Ah!  these  things 
were  all  veritable  tragedies  to  her. 

Lily  Pendleton  was  very  sure  that  she  was  go- 
ing to  take  the  prize.  And  she  was  not  afraid 
to  talk  about  it. 

"  Mother  saw  Mr.  Monterey,  and  I  am  sure  he 
was  impressed  by  what  she  told  him,"  she  an- 
nounced. "Why,  when  the  New  Century  Club 
met  at  our  house  last  week,  I  read  two  acts  of 
my  play,  and  all  the  ladies  said  it  was  fine." 


"JUST  LIKE  A   STORY  BOOK"  135 

"  Aren't  you  modest !  "  grumbled  Bobby.  "  I 
should  think  it  would  pain  you." 

"  Now,  don't  you  get  saucy,  Bobby,"  warned 
Lily.  "  You  are  not  interested  in  this  contest, 
that's  sure." 

"  Huh !  "  cried  Bobby.  "  I  knew  better  than 
to  try  to  write  any  such  thing.  If  I  won  the 
prize  nobody  would  believe  that  I  wrote  it." 

"  Oh,  Bob,"  said  Dora  Lockwood.  "  You  are 
too  modest." 

"  Yes,  sir — ree !  "  returned  Bobby.  "  I  know 
it.  I  am  of  the  same  modest  and  withdrawing 
nature  as  the  turtle." 

"The  turtle?" 

"Yep,"  said  Bobby.  "You  know  what  the 
little  boy  said  when  he  first  went  into  the  coun- 
try ?  He  came  running  to  his  father  and  says : 
'  Oh,  Dad!  what's  this  thing  I  found?  When  I 
poked  it,  it  put  its  hands  and  feet  in  its  pockets 
and  swallowed  its  head ! '  Now,  there  can't  be 
anything  much  more  retiring  than  the  turtle — 
or  me." 

The  bell  called  them  in  for  the  final  session 
then,  and  half  an  hour  before  closing  time  the 
signal  from  Mr.  Sharp's  office  announced  that 
the  girls  of  all  classes  were  to  file  to  the  As- 
sembly hall  and  take  their  seats.  On  this  occa- 
sion the  boys  were  not  present. 


136    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  If  I  don't  get  it  I  hope  you  do,  Jess,"  whis- 
pered  Laura  Belding  to  her  chum  as  they  went  to 
their  seats. 

But  to  herself  Jess  kept  saying:  "Oh,  it 
would  be  too  good  to  be  true — too  good  to  be 
true!  It  would  be  just  like  a  story-book." 

Mr.  Sharp  was  smiling  when  he  rose  to  speak. 

"  I  must  admit  that  I  am  surprised — happily 
surprised,"  he  began.  "  Several  of  the  plays 
submitted  to  the  committee  are  really  marked  by 
a  vigor  of  style  and  originality  of  text  and  plot 
that  have  delighted  me.  Particularly  are  '  The 
Strong  Defense/  by  Miss  Belding,  '  Appear- 
ances,' by  Miss  Hilyard,  'The  Arrow's  Flight,' 
by  Miss  Agnew  and  *  Harrowdale,'  by  Miss  Bu- 
ford  to  be  praised  upon  these  points. 

"Of  course,  there  were  some  handed  in  to 
the  committee  that  were  utterly  unintelligible; 
the  writers  had  not  grasped  the  first  principles 
of  play-writing.  But,  as  a  whole,  I  am  proud  of 
your  efforts,  and  I  know  Miss  Gould  is.  I  only 
fear  that  many  of  you  young  ladies  who  began 
plays  did  not  finish  them.  It  narrowed  the 
choice  down  to  a  very  few. 

"  And  yet,"  pursued  Mr.  Sharp,  "  there  was 
really  little  doubt  in  the  minds  of  any  of  the 
committee  at  the  first  reading  of  the  manuscripts. 
And  when  the  plays  considered,  from  a  literary 


"JUST  LIKE   A   STORY  BOOK"  137 

standpoint,  really  acceptable,  were  put  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Monterey  for  a  final  reading  and 
judgment,  we  were  assured  that  our  opinion  was 
correct. 

"  There  is  but  one,  among  them  all,  that  is  a 
really  actable  (pardon  the  coining  of  the  word), 
and  that  one,  too,  has  in  it  the  elements  of  a 
really  heart-moving  story.  The  author  has  failed 
in  many  of  the  professional  rules  of  play-writing 
— even  her  grammar  is  somewhat  shaky  in 
spots,"  added  Mr.  Sharp,  smiling  suddenly. 
"  But  the  story  is  so  sweet  and  so  moving,  and 
is  so  well  fitted  to  the  acting  capacity  of  you  girls 
and  your  brothers,  that  there  is  not  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt  as  to  the  worth  of  the  piece  and  the  suc- 
cess of  the  writer." 

For  a  moment  he  was  silent.  The  girls  were 
eager.  Lily  Pendleton  preened  herself  in  her 
seat  Her  play  had  not  been  named  when  the 
principal  gave  lukewarm  praise  to  those  men- 
tioned. She  was  sure  that  he  now  referred  to 
her  and  to  her  play. 

On  the  other  hand,  Jess  Morse  had  lost  all 
hope.  Her  poor  little  play  was  not  even  men- 
tioned, as  Chet  would  have  said,  "  among  the 
also  rans !  " 

"  I  am  glad  to  announce — and  to  congratulate 
the  young  lady  at  the  same  time,"  said  Mr.  Sharp, 


138    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  that  Miss  Josephine  Morse  is  the  winner  of  the 
two  hundred  dollars  offered  by  Mrs.  Kerrick,  the 
title  of  her  play  being  '  The  Spring  Road.' ' 

It  came  like  a  thunderbolt!  Jess  could  only 
gasp  and  stare  up  at  him  until  his  smiling,  rosy 
face,  and  the  big  spectacles,  were  blurred  in  a 
mist  that  seemed  to  rise  before  her  like  a  curtain. 

Bobby  Hargrew  started  the  cheering;  but  it 
was  Laura  who  reached  Jess  first  and  hugged  her 
tight. 

"  I'm  just  as  disappointed  as  I  can  be ! "  she 
cried.  "  I  actually  thought  my  play  was  going 

to  be  best.  But  as  it  wasn't Why,  Jess, 

I'm  almost  as  happy  over  your  winning  it  as  you 
can  be  yourself !  " 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LILY  PENDLETON  IS  DISSATISFIED 

"  I  consider  it  a  very  unfair  decision — unfair 
in  every  particular,"  proclaimed  Lily  Pendleton, 
after  school.  "  Why,  he  did  not  even  mention 
'  The  Duchess  of  Dawnleigh.'  I  can't  believe 
that  Mr.  Monterey  even  saw  my  play.  I  cer- 
tainly shall  make  inquiries." 

Bobby  Hargrew  was  caustic.  "  '  The  Duchess 
of  Dawnkigh ! '  she  repeated.  "Say  Lil! 
would  you  really  know  a  live  duchess  if  you  saw 
one  coming  up  the  street?  Why  didn't  you  write 
about  something  you  knew  about?" 

"  I  guess  I  know  as  much  about  duchesses  as 
you  do,  Bobby  Hargrew!" 

"  I  hope  so,"  granted  Bobby,  cheerily.  "  If 
I  had  to  go  up  against  a  duchess — a  real,  live 
one — I  expect  I'd  be  like  the  little  milliner  in 
Boston,  when  some  great,  high-and-mighty  per- 
sonages came  there  from  England.  One  of  them 
was  a  sure-enough  duchess,  and  she  sent  for  the 
little  milliner  to  do  some  work  for  her. 
139 


I40    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  The  little  workwoman  was  just  about  scared 
into  a  conniption,"  chuckled  Bobby,  "  when  she 
found  she  had  to  go  to  the  grand  hotel  to  meet 
the  grand  lady  and  so  asked  a  friend  who  knew 
a  little  more  about  the  nobility  than  she  did, 
what  she  should  do  when  she  entered  the  grand 
lady's  presence. 

" '  Why,  when  you  enter  the  room,'  explained 
the  friend,  *  merely  bow,  and  in  speaking  to  her 
say  "  Your  Grace.' ' 

"  The  little  milliner,"  continued  Bobby, 
"  thought  she  could  do  that  all  right,  and  she 
went  to  the  interview  with  the  duchess  without 
any  dress  rehearsal.  When  she  got  inside  the 
lady's  door  she  bowed  very  low  and  says,  right 
off: 

"  '  For  what  we  are  about  to  receive,  Oh,  Lord, 
make  us  truly  grateful ! ' 

But  while  there  may  have  been  some  disap- 
pointment in  the  hearts  of  some  of  the  girls  of 
Central  High  who  had  striven  for  the  prize,  they 
not  yet  having  heard  Jess  Morse's  play  read,  even 
the  disappointed  ones  were  not  niggardly  with 
their  congratulations. 

Jess  walked  in  a  maze  that  afternoon  when  she 
went  home,  Laura  on  one  side  and  Nell  Agnew 
on  the  other,  while  Bobby  pirouetted  around  them 
like  a  very  brilliant  and  revolving  planet. 


LILY   P  END  LET  ON   IS  DISSATISFIED 


141 


"  And  is  there  a  part  in  your  play  for  me?  " 
demanded  the  irrepressible.  "  I  just  dote  on  act- 
in.  But  no  thinking  part  for  mine,  young  lady ! 
I  must  at  least  be  important  enough  in  the  play 
to  say :  '  Me  Lord !  the  carriage  waits.'  " 

"  You  could  play  the  part  of  Puck  or  'Ariel, 
Bobby,"  declared  Nellie  Agnew. 

"  Hah !  did  you  use  those  characters  in  '  The 
Arrow's  Flight '  ?  "  gibed  Bobby.  "  No  wonder 
it  was  turned  down  then.  Stealing  boldly  from 
Shakespeare !  " 

"  No,  I  didn't,  Miss ! "  returned  Nell,  rather 
sharply.  "  I  hope  you  noticed  that  I  was  one 
of  those  who  was  *  honorably  mentioned.' ' 

"  Sure.  Mr.  Sharp  let  you  all  down  easy," 
Chortled  Bobby. 

"  I  believe  the  decision  in  the  contest  was  emi- 
nently fair,"  declared  Laura.  "  Yet  I  thought  I 
would  surely  win." 

"  So  did  I,"  cried  Nell. 

"  And  I  didn't  even  dare  hope  for  it,"  said 
Jess,  awe-stricken.  "  It's  just  the  most  wonder- 
ful thing  that  ever  happened." 

But  Mrs.  Morse  took  the  success  of  "The 
Spring  Road  "  quite  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  There,  Josephine !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Now 
you  can  have  the  new  clothes  you  are  really  suf- 
fering for " 


142    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Jess  decided  that  the  argument  might  as  well 
come  right  then.  So  she  halted  her  mother  on 
the  verge  of  her  plans  for  renewing  the  girl's 
wardrobe  in  a  style  more  befitting  the  means  of 
Lily  Pendleton's  mother,  than  her  own! 

"  We  have  got  to  pay  our  debts,"  declared  the 
girl,  warmly.  "  Every  penny  must  be  paid, 
Mother,  dear.  Let's  be  free  of  bills  and  duns 
for  once,  at  least.  Let  us  start  square  with  the 
world — and  stay  square  if  we  can." 

Mrs.  Morse  did  not  wish  her  daughter  to  use 
the  prize  money  for  their  general  needs.  Jess 
had  much  trouble  to  convince  her  that  it  would 
make  her,  Jess,  far  happier  to  do  that  than  to 
own  the  finest  set  of  furs,  or  the  most  beautiful 
evening  gown,  that  would  be  displayed  upon  the 
Hill  that  winter. 

She  did  agree,  finally,  however,  to  have  a  new 
dress  so  that  she  could  attend  the  M.  O.  R.  re- 
ception that  week,  at  which  her  play  was  read 
aloud  by  Miss  Gould  herself,  and  it  was  praised 
by  the  audience  until  Jess's  ears  fairly  burned. 
Then  the  committee  properly  appointed  went  into 
executive  session  and  plans  for  the  production 
of  "  The  Spring  Road  "  went  with  a  rush. 

It  was  easy  to  choose  a  cast  of  characters. 
With  a  little  advice  from  Jess  it  was  not  hard  to 
select  the  very  girls  and  boys  best  fitted  to  act 


143 

in  the  piece.  And  such  selection  was  made  that 
very  week,  the  typewritten  '  sides '  distributed  to 
the  several  players,  and  the  boys  and  girls  went 
to  work  to  memorize  their  parts.  Lance  Darby 
and  Chet  Belding  were  both  in  the  play,  and  al- 
though neither  Laura,  nor  Jess  herself,  had  a 
part,  they  were  both  so  busy  (for  they  were  on 
the  M.  O.  R.  play  committee)  that  for  a  few 
days  athletics  and  sports  were  well-nigh  neg- 
lected. 

Through  the  good-natured  manager  of  the 
Centerport  Opera  House,  scenery  and  much  of 
the  properties  and  some  costumes  for  the  inferior 
characters  were  to  be  obtained.  But  the  princi- 
pal characters  would  furnish  their  own  costumes, 
and  that  is  where  Lily  Pendleton  began  to  lose 
her  dissatisfaction.  Disappointed  as  she  had 
been  regarding  the  decision  of  the  committee, 
when  she  found  that  she  was  cast  for  an  impor- 
tant part  in  Jess's  play  she  "  came  out  of  the 
sulks,"  as  Bobby  termed  it. 

Mr.  Monterey  suggested  to  the  committee,  too, 
the  name  of  a  man  to  take  charge  of  the  re- 
hearsals— really,  to  be  stage  director  of  "  The 
Spring  Road."  He  came  to  the  M.  O.  R.  house 
one  afternoon  to  read  the  play — a  dapper,  for- 
eign-looking man  of  an  indeterminate  age,  who 
continually  twirled  a  silken  black  mustache  and 


144    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

listened  devotedly  to  any  girl  who  talked  to  him. 

Lily  began  to  cultivate  Mr.  Pizotti  assiduously. 
Really,  one  might  have  supposed  she  had  written 
the  play,  instead  of  Jess  Morse,  she  was  so  fre- 
quently in  conference  with  Mr.  Pizotti  that  first 
afternoon. 

Bobby,  who  had  likewise  been  cast  for  a  part 
in  "The  Spring  Road,"  watched  Lily's  actions 
with  the  stage  manager  with  a  good  deal  of  dis- 
gust. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that  foolish  girl  ?  " 
she  demanded.  "  I'll  wager  that  greasy  for- 
eigner has  got  a  wife  and  ten  children — and  neg- 
lects them.  He  has  brilliantine  on  that  mous- 
tache, and  he  smells  of  hair-oil,  and  I'll  wager, 
too  his  hair  will  show  gray  at  the  roots,  and  I 
know  it  is  thin  on  top." 

"  How  wise  you  are,  Miss  Bobby,"  said  Nellie, 
who  heard  her.  "  For  a  child  you  seem  to  have 
learned  a  lot." 

"  I'm  foxy,"  returned  Bobby,  grinning  im- 
pishly. "  I'm  fully  as  smart  as  that  kid  brother 
of  Alice  Long's.  He  came  up  to  see  us  the  other 
day — Alice  brought  him.  Aunt  Mary  is  real 
old  fashioned,  you  know,  and  she  sat  in  the  kit- 
chen darning  and  Tommy  was  playing  around 
the  floor.  She  thought  it  was  getting  toward 
tea  time  and  she  said  to  him : 


LILY   PENDLETON  IS  DISSATISFIED      145 

"  '  Tommy,  go  into  the  front  hall  and  see  if 
the  clock  is  running,  that's  a  good  boy.' 

"  Tommy  came  back  after  a  minute,  and  says: 

"'No,  ma'am,  it  ain't  running;  it's  standing 
still.  But  it's  wagging  it's  tail !  ' 

"  And  there's  Lil  putting  on  her  hat  in  a  hurry 
so  as  to  meet  the  man  when  Miss  Gould  is 

through  with  him,  and  walk  down  the  block 

Did  you  ever?  "  exclaimed  Jess. 

"  Poor  Pretty  Sweet !  "  groaned  Bobby.  "  His 
nose  is  out  of  joint.  He  has  been  Lil's  bright 
and  shining  cavalier  for  months.  Dear,  'dear 
me !  The  Duchess  of  Dusenberry — was  that  the 
name  of  Lil's  play? — sure  does  have  her  favor- 
ites, and  like  the  Queen  of  Hearts  in  "  Alice  in 
Wonderland,"  has  only  one  command  for  her  dis- 
carded courtiers :  '  Off  with  their  heads ! '  "  and 
Bobby  giggled  as  she  peered  from  the  window  to 
watch  the  dapper  Mr.  Pizotti  and  Lily  Pendleton 
walk  down  the  street  side  by  side. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  SKI  RUNNERS 

THE  New  Year  had  ushered  in  the  first  big 
fall  of  snow — and  it  kept  coming.  Every  few 
days,  for  the  following  fortnight,  snow  fell  un- 
til Centerport's  street-cleaning  department  was 
swamped,  and  the  drifts  lay  deep  upon  the  vacant 
lots  and  against  fences  and  blind  walls. 

Skating  was  done  for,  for  the  ice  on  the  lake 
had  become  overloaded,  and  had  broken  up  into  a 
shifting  mass  of  blocks,  grinding  against  each 
other  when  the  wind  blew,  and  threatening  the 
safety  of  any  craft  that  tried  to  put  out  in  it. 

So  traffic  on  Lake  Luna  ceased,  and,  of  course, 
ice-boating  was  likewise  impossible.  Chet  and 
Lance  Darby,  had  they  not  been  so  extremely 
busy  learning  their  parts  in  the  new  play,  could 
•not  have  used  their  aero-iceboat  during  this  time. 
Sleds  were  out  in  force,  however — bobsleds, 
double-runners,  toboggans,  "  framers,"  and  every 
sort  of  coasting  paraphernalia.  Even  the  Whif- 
fle Street  hill  was  made  a  coasting  place  by  the 
146 


THE   SKI  RUNNERS 


147 


young  folk  of  the  neighborhood,  much  to  the 
despair  of  some  grouty  people  who  had  forgotten 
their  own  youth,  and  who  either  telephoned  their 
complaints  to  the  police,  or  sprinkled  ashes  on  the 
slide  in  the  early  morning  hours. 

It  was  at  this  time,  however,  that  Mrs.  Case, 
the  girls'  physical  instructor  of  Central  High, 
took  her  class  in  ski  running  out  into  the  open. 

At  first  the  dozen  or  more  girls  had  practiced 
an  their  athletic  field,  which  was  now  snow- 
covered,  too.  It  was  a  particularly  odd  experi- 
ence to  stand  upon  narrow  boards  of  ash,  some 
ten  feet  in  length,  and  then  try  to  shuffle  along 
on  them  without  tipping  sideways,  or  plunging 
head-first  into  a  drift. 

Each  ski  runner  held  a  pole,  with  a  spike  in 
one  end,  and  this  was  an  aid  to  balancing,  as  well 
as  of  additional  use  if  one  tumbled  down.  It  was 
no  easy  task,  the  girls  found,  to  get  up  when  they 
had  been  thrown  into  a  drift. 

"My!"  commented  Bobby  Hargrew,  "if  you 
cross  your  feet  going  down  hill  on  these  things, 
you're  likely  to  dislocate  every  joint  in  your 
body." 

"  Be  sure  you  do  not  cross  your  feet,  then," 
advised  Mrs.  Case,  grimly.  "I  have  shown  you 
all  the  correct  position  to  stand  upon  these  skis. 
The  professional  ski  runner  does  not  even  use  a 


148    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

pole.  He  will  take  the  steep  sides  of  mountains 
at  a  two-mile  a  minute  rate.  I  have  seen  them 
do  so  in  Switzerland  and  in  Sweden  and  Norway. 
And  they  will  jump  into  the  air  from  the  verge 
of  high  banks,  and  land  on  the  drift  at  the  bot- 
tom with  perfect  balance." 

"  This  is  going  to  be  no  cinch  to  learn,"  pro- 
nounced Bobby.  "  I  know  it's  going  to  be  some 
time  before  I  am  good  enough  at  it  to  jump  off 
the  top  of  Boulder  Head  on  Cavern  Island — . 
now  you  see !  " 

"  You  would  better  take  a  much  less  difficult 
jump  first,"  advised  Mrs.  Case,  smiling.  "  It 
will  be  enough  fun  for  us  to  learn  to  travel  on  the 
skis  without  any  frills.  In  Europe — especially 
on  the  road  between  St.  Moritz  and  Celerina — 
I  have  often  seen  ski  riders  with  horses.  A 
horse  trots  ahead,  drawing  several  riders  on  skis, 
who  cling  together  by  the  aid  of  a  rope  fastened 
to  the  horse's  collar.  Sometimes  each  rider  has  a 
horse,  and  they  race  horses  just  as  though  they 
were  riding  in  sleighs. 

"  It  is  great  sport,  but  like  every  other  health- 
ful form  of  athletics,  it  is  often  made  dangerous 
and  objectionable  by  those  who  are  reckless,  or 
rough.  We  will  learn  to  balance  ourselves,  and 
to  coast  down  a  gentle  descent." 

So,  the  next  Saturday,  the  teacher  and  more 


THE   SKI  RUNNERS 


149 


than  a  dozen  girls  of  Central  High  piled  into  a 
big,  straw-filled  sleigh,  and  were  whisked  out  into 
the  hills  south  of  the  city.  The  inn  at  Robin- 
son's Woods — a  popular  picnicking  ground  in 
summer — was  made  their  headquarters,  and 
there  they  left  the  sleigh  and  took  to  the  difficult 
skis. 

The  climb  to  the  top  of  the  bluff  overlooking 
the  speedway,  on  which  everybody' — almost — 
who  owned  a  sleigh  was  driving  that  afternoon, 
was  not  an  easy  one  for  the  girls.  Mrs.  Case, 
holding  her  body  erect,  yet  easily,  shuffled  up 
the  incline  with  such  little  apparent  effort  that 
some  of  her  pupils  were  in  despair. 

"  We'll  never  be  able  to  run  as  you  do,  Mrs. 
Case !  "  cried  Dora  Lockwood.  "  Never !  Why 
— ouch !  There,  I  came  near  tumbling  down  that 
time." 

"  Keep  your  balance.  Use  the  pole  if  you  have 
to,"  advised  the  instructor.  "  It  is  not  a  run- 
ning motion — it  is  more  like  a  slide." 

"  Say ! "  growled  Bobby,  who  was  having 
trouble,  too.  "  It  beats  the  '  debutante  slink,' 
that  came  in  with  narrow  skirts.  I  feel  as  if  I 
was  tumbling  down  every  second." 

But  they  gained  confidence  in  time.  They 
reached  the  top  of  the  bluff  and  then  the  long, 
easy  slope,  right  beside  the  speedway,  spread, 


150    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

spotless,  before  them.  Mrs.  Case  showed  them 
how  to  start,  and  after  a  fashion  several  of  the 
bigger  girls  reached  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  and 
then  panted  up  again,  pronouncing  it  the  best 
ever! 

Bobby  would  not  be  outdone,  as  she  said,  "  by 
anything  in  skirts,"  and  so  she  ventured.  Half- 
way down  the  hill  one  of  her  skis  must  have 
struck  something — perhaps  the  stub  of  a  bush 
sticking  out  of  the  snow.  Whew!  Bobby 
turned  almost  a  complete  somersault! 

She  was  buried  so  deep  in  a  drift — and  head 
first,  at  that — that  it  took  both  Laura  and  Mrs. 
Case  to  pull  her  out. 

"  Oh-me-oh-my ! "  cried  Bobby,  who  looked 
like  an  animated  snow-girl  for  the  moment. 
"  And  just  as  I  was  getting  on  so  well,  too ! 
Wasn't  that  mean?" 

"  Perhaps  you'd  better  not  try  any  more  to- 
day, Clara,"  said  the  instructor. 

"And  let  those  other  girls  get  ahead  of  me? 
Well !  I  guess  not ! "  declared  Miss  Hargrew, 
and  she  ploughed  back  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 
fastened  her  feet  upon  the  skis  again,  and  started1 
once  more. 

Laura  and  Jess  Morse  were  on  the  hilltop, 
looking  out  upon  the  white  track  over  which  the 
sleighs  were  flying. 


THE    SKI   RUNNERS  151 

"  Look  there! "  gasped  Jess,  seizing  her  chum's 
arm.  "  Isn't  that  the  Pendletons'  sleigh?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is.  With  the  big  plumes  and 
the  pair  of  dappled  grays?  And  that  stiff  and 
starched  coachman  driving?  No  mistake,"  ad- 
mitted Laura. 

"Who's  in  the  sleigh  with  Lil?"  demanded 
Jess. 

"  As  I  live ! "  cried  her  chum,  in  a  somewhat 
horrified  tone.  "  It — it  is  that  Pizotti — that 
man!" 

"Can  you  beat  her?"  said  Jess,  shaking  her 
head. 

"How  foolish!"  added  Laura.  "He  is  not 
a  good  man.  He  has  known  her  so  short  a  time 
— and  to  go  sleigh-riding  with  her.  Lil  will  be 
talked  about,  sure  enough." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  we  need  to  worry 
about  her,"  said  Jess,  shrugging  her  shoulders. 

But  Laura  Belding  could  not  put  her  school- 
mate's indiscreet  actions  out  of  her  mind  so 
easily.  She  wondered  if  Mrs.  Pendleton  knew 
of  Lily's  familiarity  with  the  foreign-looking 
Pizotti.  The  man  might  know  his  business  as  a 
stage  director;  but  he  certainly  was  neither  of 
the  age,  nor  the  condition  in  life,  to  be  cultivated 
as  a  friend  by  any  young  girl. 

Lily  Pendleton  was  so  foolishly  romantic,  and 


152    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

so  crazy  about  theatrical  matters,  that  to  be  no* 
ticed  by  any  person  connected  with  the  stage,  or 
theatrical  affairs,  quite  turned  her  head.  And 
then,  she  still  talked  a  great  deal  about  her  own 
play,  "  The  Duchess  of  Dawnleigh."  She  was 
sure  it  had  not  been  given  a  proper  reading — 
especially  by  Mr.  Monterey.  Perhaps,  for  rea- 
sons best  known  to  himself,  this  stranger,  Mr. 
Pizotti,  had  promised  the  foolish  girl  that  he 
would  help  her  get  "  The  Duchess  of  Dawn- 
leigh "  produced. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE    FIRST    DRESS    REHEARSAL 

LAURA  BELDING  was  a  particularly  frank,  out- 
spoken girl,  and  when  she  met  Lily  Pendleton 
that  Saturday  night  at  the  rehearsal  of  Jess's 
play,  she  came  out  "  flat-footed,"  as  her  chum 
would  have  said,  with  the  question: 

"  Who  was  that  in  the  sleigh  with  you  to-day, 
Lil?" 

Lily  flushed  instantly,  bridled,  and  smiled. 
"  Who  do  you  s'pose  ?  "  she  returned. 

"  I  don't  believe  your  mother  knew  you  had 
that  theatrical  man  to  drive  with  you,"  said 
Laura,  bluntly. 

"  Why,  how  you  talk !  I  merely  met  Signer 
Pizotti,  and  took  him  up " 

"  You  don't  know  who  he  is,"  spoke  Laura. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  Miss !  And  do  you?  "  demand- 
ed Lily,  rather  sharply. 

"No     And  I  don't  want  to  know  him." 

"He  is  a  very  scholarly  man — and  he  knows 
153 


154    GIRL$  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

all  about  staging  this  play.  If  it  wasn't  for  him, 
I  guess,  '  The  Spring  Road '  would  suffer  from 
frost,"  said  Lily,  with  an  unkind  laugh. 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Laura,  flushing  a  little 
herself,  for  any  slur  cast  upon  her  chum's  play 
hurt  her,  too.  "  But  his  knowledge  of  how  to 
produce  or  stage  a  pky  does  not  establish  his  pri- 
vate character." 

"  Pooh !  you  are  interfering  in  something  that 
you  know  nothing  about,"  declared  Miss  Pendle- 
ton,  loftily.  "  And  it  does  not  concern  you  at  all/' 

"  I  do  not  believe  your  mother  would  approve," 
ventured  Laura. 

"  Never  you  mind  about  my  mother,"  snapped 
Lily,  and  turned  her  back  on  Mother  Wit. 

The  latter  took  herself  to  task  later,  thinking 
she  had  been  too  presumptuous. 

"  But  really,"  she  said  to  Jess,  on  their  way 
home  that  evening,  "  I  did  not  mean  to  be. 
Only,  the  man  looks  so  unreliable.  I'm  afraid 
of  him." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him,"  said  Jess,  'decidedly. 
"  I  only  dislike  him.  But  there  is  no  accounting 
for  tastes.  My  mother  knew  of  a  foolish  girl 
who  wrote  to  an  opera  tenor — one  of  those 
handsome,  spoiled  foreigners,  and  she  sent  him 
her  photograph  and  told  him  how  much  she  liked 
his  singing — and  all  that.  Just  a  silly  letter,  you 


THE  FIRST  DRESS  REHEARSAL  155 

know.  But  she  didn't  sign  her  name  and  she 
thought  he  would  never  learn  who  she  was. 

"  But  he  went  to  the  photographer,"  continued 
Jess,  "  and  bribed  him  to  tell  who  the  girl  was, 
and  by  that  time  she  had  written  to  the  man 
several  times,  and  he  had  written  to  her.  So 
then  he  threatened  her  that  if  she  did  not  give 
him  five  hundred  dollars  he  would  send  her  let- 
ters to  her  father.  And  she  was  in  dreadful 
trouble,  for  she  was  afraid  of  what  her  father 
would  do." 

"  Oh,  Lil  won't  do  anything  like  that! "  gasped 
Laura.  "  I  don't  believe  she  even  thinks  she 
cares  about  that  Pizotti.  It  is  only  his  foreign 
way  that  makes  it  appear  so.  But  I  believe  he 
is  flattering  her  about  her  play,  and  perhaps 
will  get  money  from  her  or  her  mother." 

"Pizotti!  Ha!"  grunted  Jess,  before  they 
separated.  "  I'm  like  Bobby  Hargrew :  I  don't 
believe  that's  even  his  name.  It  sounds  too 
fancy  to  be  a  real  name." 

But  Mr.  Pizotti  was  an  able  man  in  his  busi- 
ness. He  came  from  time  to  time  to  the  M.  O.  R. 
house  and  his  advice  regarding  the  play  was  al- 
ways practical.  He  was  something  of  a  musi- 
cian, too,  and  played  the  accompaniments  for  the 
girls  who  sang  in  "  The  Spring  Road."  He  sug- 
gested improvements  in  the  costumes,  too;  and 


156    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Lily  Pendleton  was  entirely  guided  by  his  taste 
in  her  choice  of  the  gowns  she  was  to  wear  in 
the  production. 

Mrs.  Pendleton  was  a  very  busy  woman  in  a 
social  way  and  allowed  her  daughter  to  do  about 
as  she  pleased.  Lily  aped  the  manners  of  girls 
who  had  long  since  graduated  from  school  and 
were  flashy  in  their  dress  and  manners. 

To  tell  the  truth,  the  after-hour  athletics,  gov- 
erned by  Mrs.  Case,  had  been  the  one  saving 
thing  in  Lily  Pendleton's  life  for  some  months. 
She  would  have  become  so  enamored  of  fashion 
and  frivolity,  had  it  not  been  for  the  call  of  ath- 
letics, that  she  would  have  fallen  sadly  behind 
in  her  school  work. 

But  she  liked  certain  activities  enjoyed  by 
those  who  were  attentive  to  Mrs.  Case's  classes; 
and  to  gain  these  privileges  one  .had  to  stand 
well  in  her  general  studies.  Lily  was  smart 
enough,  was  a  quick  student,  and  so  kept  up 
her  school  work. 

This  business  of  acting  appealed  to  her  im- 
mensely. She  was  "just  crazy  about  it,"  as 
she  admitted  to  her  particular  friend,  Hester 
Grimes. 

"  I  wish  my  folks  were  poor,  so  that  I  would 
have  to  work  when  I  leave  school,"  she  declared. 
"  Then  I'd  go  on  the  stage  myself." 


THE  FIRST  DRESS  REHEARSAL  157 

"You  wouldn't!"  exclaimed  Hester. 

"  I  would  in  a  minute.  And  this  Signer  Pi- 
zotti  could  place  me  very  advantageously " 

"  Pooh !  you  don't  believe  anything  that  fel- 
low says,  do  you  ?  "  demanded  her  chum,  who 
was  eminently  practical  and  had  none  of  the  silly 
ideas  in  her  head  that  troubled  Lily. 

"  You  don't  know  him !  "  exclaimed  Lily. 

"  Don't  want  to,"  replied  Hester,  gruffly. 

Preparations  for  the  first  dress  rehearsal  of 
"The  Spring  Road"  went  on  apace.  But,  of 
course,  Bobby  Hargrew  would  have  bad  hick! 
She  was  thrown  from  Short  and  Long's  bobsled 
one  night  and  had  to  be  helped  home.  The  hurt 
to  her  foot  was  a  small  matter;  but  the  doctor 
said  she  would  have  to  wear  her  arm  in  a  sling 
for  a  time. 

"And  how  can  I  play  Arista  with  my  arm 
strapped  to  my  side?"  wailed  Bobby,  when  Jess 
and  Laura  came  in  to  commiserate  with  her  over 
the  accident.  "  Oh,  dear  me !  I  am  the  most 
unlucky  person  in  the  world.  If  it  was  raining 
soup  I'd  have  a  hole  in  my  dipper ! " 

Mr.  Monterey,  the  local  manager,  came  him- 
self to  the  dress  rehearsal.  He  only  sat  out 
front,  and  watched  and  listened;  and  he  went 
away  without  expressing  an  opinion  to  anybody. 
Yet  Jess  saw  him  there  and  was  excited  by  the 


158    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

possibility  of  Mr.  Monterey's  recognizing  the 
value  of  the  play  for  professional  purposes. 

At  the  Morse  domicile  things  were  going  bet- 
ter, and  the  girl's  mind  was  vastly  relieved  from 
present  troubles.  Yet  she  was  wise  enough  to 
see  that  in  the  offing  the  same  danger  of  debt 
threatened  them  if  they  were  not  very,  very 
careful. 

It  was  true  that  scarcely  half  the  prize  money 
had  been  spent;  yet  Mrs.  Morse's  regular  work 
on  the  Courier  barely  fed  them;  and  her  suc- 
cess with  the  popular  magazines  was  but  fitful. 
Sometimes  two  months  passed  without  her 
mother  receiving  even  a  ten-dollar  check  from 
her  fugitive  work. 

Oh,  if  she  could  only  find  somebody  who 
would  take  the  play — after  the  M.  O.  R.'s  had 
made  use  of  it — and  whip  it  into  shape  for  pro- 
fessional use,  and  give  her  a  part  of  the  pro- 
ceeds ! 

That  was  the  thought  continually  knocking  at 
the  door  of  Jess  Morse's  mind.  It  was  "too 
good  to  be  true,"  yet  she  kept  thinking  about  it, 
and  hoping  for  the  impossible,  and  dreaming  of 
it. 

However,  the  dress  rehearsal  of  "  The  Spring 
Road  "  was  pronounced  by  the  teachers  and  Mr. 
Pizotti  as  eminently  satisfactory.  Bobby  was 


THE  FIRST  DRESS  REHEARSAL  159 

letter-perfect  in  her  part,  if  she  did  have  "a 
damaged  wing,"  as  she  said.  And  most  of  the 
other  important  roles  were  well  learned. 

The  very  prettiest  girl  of  Central  High  had 
been  chosen  for  the  chief  female  character,  and 
in  this  case  prettiness  went  with  brains.  She  had 
learned  her  part,  and  was  natural  and  graceful, 
and  was  altogether  a  delight. 

As  for  Launcelot  Darby,  he  was  the  most  ro- 
mantic looking  Truant  Lover  that  could  have 
been  found.  And  he  played  with  feeling,  too, 
although  his  mates  were  making  a  whole  lot  of 
fun  of  him  on  the  side.  But  Laura  had  urged 
him  to  do  his  best,  and  Lance  would  have  done 
anything  in  his  power  to  please  Mother  Wit 

Chet  Belding,  as  a  peasant,  "  made  up  "  well, 
and  was  letter  perfect,  too,  in  his  part,  if  a  little 
awkward.  But  that  did  not  so  much  matter, 
considering  the  character  he  had  to  portray. 
And,  of  course,  he  would  do  nothing  to  belittle 
Jess's  play.  His  whole  heart  was  in  his  work, 
too. 

So,  after  that  first  dress  rehearsal,  the  com- 
mittee and  Jess  were  hopeful  of  success.  The 
time  for  the  production  of  the  play  was  set,  the 
tickets  printed,  and  out  of  school  hours  every- 
thing was  in  a  bustle  of  preparation  for  the  great 
occasion. 


CHAPTER   XX 

"  MR.  PIZOTTI  " 

"  LISTEN  to  this ! " 

Bobby  Hargrew,  ,her  arm  still  in  a  sling,  seized 
Jess  Morse  by  the  wrist  and  "  tiptoed  "  along  the 
corridor  of  the  second  wing  of  Central  High, 
where  the  small  offices  were  located,  and  with 
tragic  expression  pointed  to  a  certain  door  that 
stood  ajar. 

Jess,  amazed,  did  not  speak,  but  listened.  Out 
of  the  room  came  a  muffled  voice,  but  the  words 
spoken  were  these: 

"  Unhand  me !  Nay,  keep  your  distance, 
Count  Mornay!  I  am  no  peasant  wench  to  be 
charmed  either  by  your  gay  coat  or  your  gay 
manner.  Ah!  your  villainies  are  known  to  me, 
nor  can  you  hide  the  cloven  hoof  beneath  the 
edge  of  Virtue's  robe." 

"  Ha !  ha ! "  chuckled  Bobby,  almost  strangling 
with  laughter.  "  He  ought  to  have  worn  boots 
and  so  hidden  his  'cloven  hoof.'  Come  away, 
Jess,  or  I  shall  burst!  Did  you  ever  hear  the 

like?  " 

160 


"MR.   PIZOTTI"  161 

"  Why — why,  what  is  it  ?  "  demanded  Jess, 
mystified. 

"Oh,  don't!  Wait  till  I  laugh!"  chuckled 
Bobby,  when  they  were  around  the  corner  of  the 
corridor  again.  "  Isn't  that  rich  ?  " 

"Who  was  it  talking?"  asked  Jess. 

"Talking!  Didn't  you  recognize  that  ora- 
tion?" 

"  I  did  not.  Mother  doesn't  allow  me  to  read 
any  penny-dreadful  story  papers,  magazines  of 
books." 

"Oh,  ho!  Wait!"  gasped  Bobby.  "That's 
Lil." 

"Lily  Pendleton?" 

"  You  evidently  haven't  heard  any  of  the 
'Duchess  of  Dusenberry '  before.  That's  it!" 

"Not  part  of  her  play?" 

"  That  is  one  of  the  melodramatic  bits,"  said 
Bobby,  weakly,  leaning  against  the  wall  for  sup- 
port. "  Yes,  really,  Jess.  That  is  in  her  play. 
I've  heard  her  recite  it  before." 

"  My  goodness  me !  "  gasped  Jess. 

"  It's  not  all  so  bad,  I  guess.  But  when  she 
gets  flowery  and  romantic  she  just  tears  off  such 
paragraphs  as  that.  '  Nor  can  you  hide  the  cloven 
hoof  beneath  the  edge  of  Virtue's  robe.''  Isn't 
that  a  peach  ?  " 

"Bobby!"  exclaimed  Jess,  breathless  herself 


162    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

by  now,  "you  use  the  worst  slang  of  any  girl 
in  Central  High." 

"  That's  all  right.  But  Lil's  using  worse  lan- 
guage than  I  ever  dreamed  of,"  laughed  Bobby. 
"  I've  heard  her  spouting  that  sort  of  stuff  time 
and  time  again.  When  she  shuts  herself  up,  pre- 
sumably to  study  her  part  in  your  play,  half  the 
time  she  is  reciting  her  own  lines.  She  likes  the 
sound  of  'em.  And  she  had  that  Pizotti  fellow 
backed  in  a  corner  of  the  front  hall  at  the  M. 
O.  R.  house  the  other  afternoon,  reciting  that 
same  sort  of  stuff  to  him. 

"  Repeating  her  play?  " 

"  Yep.  The  silly !  And  he  pretending  that  it 
was  great,  and  applauding  her.  I'll  wager  that 
he  sees  a  way  to  make  money  out  of  Lil  Pendle- 
ton,  or  he  wouldn't  stand  for  it." 

Jess  carried  this  idea  in  her  mind,  although 
she  was  not  as  much  troubled  by  her  schoolmate's 
foolishness  as  was  Mother  Wit.  There  was  a 
loyahy  among  the  girls  of  Central  High,  how- 
ever, that  few  ignored.  Despite  the  fact  that 
Jess  had  never  especially  liked  Lily  Pendleton, 
she  would  have  done  anything  in  her  power  to 
help  her. 

So,  that  very  evening,  when  she  was  market- 
ing, she  chanced  to  see  something  that  brought 
Lil's  affairs  into  her  mind  again.  She  was  going 


"MR.   PIZOTTI"  163 

into  Mr.  Vandergriff's  store  when  she  saw  a 
man,  bundled  in  a  big  ulster,  talking  with  the 
proprietor. 

Griff  came  forward  to  wait  on  Jess,  and  the 
girl  might  not  have  noticed  the  man  by  the  desk 
a  second  time  had  she  not  overheard  Mr.  Van- 
dergriff  say: 

"  You  take  advantage  of  my  good  nature, 
Abel.  Because  I  knew  you  in  the  old  country, 
you  come  here  and  plead  poverty.  I  can't  see 
your  family  suffer,  for  your  wife  is  a  nice 
woman,  if  you  are  a  rascal! " 

"  Hard  words !  Hard  words,  Vandergriff," 
muttered  the  other. 

Jess  saw  that  he  was  a  little  man,  and  the  high 
ulster  collar  muffled  the  lower  part  of  his  face. 
But  as  he  turned  toward  the  door  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  glossy  black  mustache,  and  two 
beady  black  eyes. 

It  was  Mr.  Pizotti! 

The  girl  was  so  astonished,  for  the  man  was 
shabbily  dressed,  and  shuffled  out  with  several 
bundles  under  his  arm,  that  she  could  scarcely 
remember  what  else  she  wanted  to  buy  when 
Griff  asked  her. 

"Oh,  I  say,  Griff!"  she  demanded,  breath- 
lessly, and  in  a  whisper.  "  Who  was  that  man 
who  just  went  out?  " 


1 64    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"Why — oh,  that  was  only  Abel  Piornish." 

"Abel  Piornish!" 

"  Yep.  Poor,  useless  creature,"  said  the  boy, 
with  disgust.  "  Or,  so  father  says.  He  knew 
Abel  in  England.  You  know,  father  came  from 
London  before  he  was  married,"  and  Griff 
smiled. 

"  But  this  man — are  you  sure  his  name  is 
Piornish?" 

"Quite,  Jess.  Why,  he  plays  the  violin,  or 
the  piano,  in  some  cheap  moving  picture  place, 
I  believe." 

"  Then  he  is  a  musician  ? "  demanded  Jess, 
breathlessly. 

"  And  a  bad  one,  I  reckon.  But  he  has  done 
other  things.  He's  been  on  the  stage.  And  he's 
even  worked  in  the  Centerport  Opera  House,  I 
believe." 

"  And  that  is  really  his  name  ?  "  asked  Jess. 

"It's  an  awful  one,  isn't  it?  Piornish! 
Nothing  very  romantic  or  fancy  about  that," 
laughed  Griff.  "  Now,  what  else,  Jess  ?  " 

Jess  was  so  disturbed  by  this  discovery  that 
she  could  only  think  to  ask  Griff  one  more  ques- 
tion. That  related  to  where  Piornish  lived. 

"  Somewhere  on  Governor  Street.  I  think  it's 
Number  9.  Tenement  house.  Oh,  they're  poor, 
and  I  believe  when  he  gets  any  money  he  spends 


"MR.   PIZOTTI"  !65 

it  on  himself.  I  saw  him  once  on  Market  Street 
dressed  like  a  dandy.  But  when  his  wife  and 
children  come  in  here  they  look  pretty  shabby." 
It  wasn't  very  late  ,and,  anyway,  Jess  couldn't 
have  slept  that  night  without  talking  the  matter 
over  with  Mother  Wit.  She  left  her  basket  in 
the  kitchen,  saw  that  her  mother  was  busy  at 
her  desk,  and  ran  up  Whiffle  Street  hill  to  the 
Belding  house. 

"  Is  dat  suah  yo',  Miss  Jess?  "  asked  Mammy 
Jinny,  peering  out  of  the  side  door  when  Jess 
rang  the  bell.  "Come  right  erlong  in,  honey. 
Yo's  jes'  as  welcome  as  de  flowers  in  de  May- 
time.  B-r-r!  ain't  it  cold?" 

"  It  is  cold,  Mammy,"  said  Jess  to  the  Beld- 
ings'  old  serving  woman.  "Where's  Laura?  " 

"  She's  done  gone  up  to  her  room  ter  listen  ter 

Mars'  Chet  an'  dat  Lance  Darby  boy  orate  dem 

pieces  dey  is  goin'  to  recite  in  school  nex'  week." 

"  They  are  going  to  act  in  my  play,  Mammy !  " 

cried  Jess. 

"  Mebbe  so.  Mebbe  so.  But  it's  all  recita- 
tionin'  ter  me.  Dat  leetle  Bobby  Hargrew  was 
in  here  and  she  say  it's  jes'  like  w'en  you-all 
useter  recite  at  de  Sunday  night  concerts  in  de 
Sunday  school  room.  An'  dem  pieces  yo'  orated 
den  was  a  hull  lot  nicer  dan  w'at  Mars'  Chet  is 
sayin'.  'Member  how  you  recited  dat  *  Leetle 


166    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

drops  o'  water,  leetle  grains  o'  sand  piece, 
Miss  Jess?  Dat  was  suah  a  nice  piece  o' 
po'try." 

"And  you  don't  care  for  the  parts  you  have 
heard  of  my  play,  Mammy  ?  "  asked  Jess,  much 
amused. 

"  Suah  'nuff,  now !  Did  you  make  up  disher 
play  dey  is  goin'  ter  act  ?  "  demanded  Mammy 
Jinny. 

"  I  certainly  did." 

"  Wai,  I  hates  ter  hu't  yo'  feelin's,  Miss  Jess," 
said  Mammy,  gravely,  "  but  dat  '  Leetle  drops  o' 
water  '  po'try  was  a  hull  lot  better — ter  my  min' ! 
Ya'as'm!  yo  kin'  go  right  up.  Yo'll  hear  dem- 
all  a-spoutin' — spoutin'  jes'  like  whales!" 

And  so  she  did.  Chet  was  reading  his  lines 
with  much  unction  while  striding  up  and  down 
Laura's  pretty  little  room.  Lance  and  Mother 
Wit  were  his  audience. 

"For  goodness  sake,  Chet!"  cried  Jess, 
breaking  in.  "  Who  told  you  your  part  was 
tragic,  and  that  'The  Spring  Road'  was  trag- 
edy?" 

"  Huh  ?  "  questioned  Chet,  stopping  short  and 
blinking  at  her. 

"  Do  read  the  lines  naturally.  Don't  be  *  orat- 
ing,' as  Mammy  Jinny  calls  it.  I  guess  she's 
right.  '  Little  drops  of  water '  is  better  than  all 


"MR.   PIZOTTI"  167 

that  bombastic  stuff.  Do,  do,  my  dear,  speak 
it  naturally." 

"  Hear  her!  "  growled  Chet.  "  And  she  wrote 
it!" 

"  I  never  really  meant  it  to  sound  like  that, 
Chet,"  declared  Jess,  shaking  her  head.  "  I 
really  didn't.  Why!  it  sounds  almost  as  bad 
as  *  The  Duchess  of  Dawnleigh.' ' 

"Wha — what's   that?"   demanded   Lance. 

"Not  Lil's  play?"  cried  Laura.  "Have  you 
heard  it?' 

Jess  told  what  she  had  heard  at  the  door  of 
the  recitation  room  that  afternoon,  and  they 
laughed  over  it. 

"  Yet  I  can  see  very  well,"  continued  Jess, 
"  that  you  actors  can  make  my  words  sound  just 
as  absurd  if  you  want  to.  Do,  do  be  natural." 

"That's  what  I  tell  them,"  sighed  Laura.  "  I 
am  glad  you  heard  Chet  spouting  here.  One 
would  think  he  was  playing  '  Hamlet,'  or  '  Rich- 
ard III.'  " 

Chet  was  a  little  miffed.  But  he  soon  "  came 
out  of  it,"  as  Lance  said,  and  he  was  so  fond  of 
Jess  anyway  that  he  would  have  tried  his  best 
to  please  her. 

He  grew  more  moderate  in  his  "  orating  "  and 
the  girls,  as  critics,  were  better  pleased.  Lance 
took  a  leaf  out  of  his  chum's  book,  too,  and 


168    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

when  he  declaimed  his  lines  he  succeeded  in 
pleasing  Jess  and  Laura  the  first  time.  Besides, 
Lance  was  naturally  a  better  actor  than  Chet. 

Mr.  Pizotti  had  taught  them  how  to  enter 
properly,  and  how  to  take  their  cues;  but  to 
Jess's  mind  he  was  not  the  man  to  train  ama- 
teurs to  speak  their  parts  with  naturalness.  If 
Miss  Gould  had  not  given  so  much  time  to  the 
rehearsals  of  "  The  Spring  Road "  the  play 
would  have  not  been  half  the  success  it  prom- 
ised to  be.  And,  of  course,  the  Central  High 
teacher  gave  her  attention  mainly  to  the  girls 
in  the  cast  of  characters. 

When  Lance  and  Chet  lounged  off  to  the 
latter's  den  Jess  instantly  poured  into  Laura's 
ears  her  discovery  of  the  identity  of  "  Mr. 
Pizotti." 

"  Well,  even  at  that  he  may  be  a  man  trying 
to  earn  his  living.  Many  stage  people  change 
their  names  for  business  reasons.  '  Plornish  ' 
is  not  an  attractive  name,  you  must  admit,"  said 
Laura,  smiling.  " '  Pizotti '  fits  his  foreign 
look." 

"  But  what  is  he  trying  to  get  out  of  Lil 
Pendleton?  "  demanded  Jess,  bluntly. 

"That's  what  troubles  me,"  admitted  Mother 
Wit.  "  I  believe  he  is  trying  to  get  money  out 
of  Lily,  or  from  her  folks.  And  it  has  to  do 


"MR.   PIZOTTI"  169 

with  Lil's  play.  You  can  see  that  she  believes 
her  play  was  slighted  and  that  it  is  a  great  deal 
better  than  yours,  Jess." 

"  I  guess  she  has  a  good  opinion  of  it,"  re- 
turned Jess,  laughing. 

"  Well,  suppose  this  fellow  tells  her  she  is 
right,  and  that  he  can  get  it  produced,  if  she 
will  put  up  the  money  ?  "  suggested  Mother  Wit. 
"  I — I  wish  Lil  would  place  confidence  in  me." 

"  Tell  her  mother." 

"  No  use,"  sighed  Laura.  "  I  doubt  if  she 
would  even  listen  to  me.  She  wouldn't  want 
to  be  bothered.  You  know  very  well  the  kind 
of  woman  Mrs.  Pendleton  is." 

"  Well,  I  don't  suppose  it  is  any  of  our  busi- 
ness, anyway,"  spoke  Jess. 

"  It  is.  Lil  is  one  of  us — one  of  the  girls  of 
Central  High.  We  have  a  deep  interest  in  any- 
thing that  concerns  her.  The  only  trouble  is," 
sighed  Laura,  "  I  don't  know  just  what  is  best 
to  do." 


CHAPTER   XXI 

MOTHER  WIT  PUTS  TWO  AND  TWO  TOGETHER 

THE  snow  still  mantled  the  ground,  and  the 
coasting  and  ski  running  remained  very  popular 
sports  with  the  girls  and  boys  of  Central  High. 
But  a  day's  hard  rain,  with  a  sharp  frost  after 
it,  had  given  the  ice-boating  another  lease  of 
life,  too.  Lake  Luna  was  a-glare  from  the  main- 
land to  Cavern  Island,  and  the  freight  boats  had 
given  over  running  until  the  spring  break-up. 

Not  that  there  were  no  open  places  in  the 
ice — for  there  were,  and  dangerous  holes,  too. 
The  current  through  the  length  of  the  lake  was 
bound  to  make  the  ice  weak  in  places.  But  near 
the  Centerport  shore  was  a  long  stretch  of  open 
ice  that  the  authorities  pronounced  safe. 

Chet  and  Lance  got  the  Blue  Streak  out  again 
and  there  wasn't  a  girl  in  the  junior  class  who 
was  not  envious  of  Laura  and  Jess.  Skating 
was  tame  beside  traveling  at  a  mile  a  minute  in 
an  aero-iceboat;  and  the  other  ice  yachts  were 
not  in  the  same  class  with  the  invention  of  Chet 
and  Lance. 

170 


MOTHER  PUTS  TWO  AND  TWO  TOGETHER    171 

The  date  set  for  the  production  of  Jess's  play 
in  the  big  hall  of  the  schoolhouse  approached, 
however;  and  preparation  for  the  event  was 
neglected  by  none  of  the  M.  O.  R.'s  or  the 
other  girls  and  boys  in  the  cast. 

Friday  evening  would  see  the  first  production ; 
but  the  intention  was  to  give  a  matinee  for  the 
pupils  of  the  three  Centerport  High  Schools  at 
a  nominal  price  on  Saturday  morning,  and  then 
a  final  performance  Saturday  evening.  From 
these  three  performances  the  committee  hoped 
to  gain  at  least  a  thousand  dollars,  and  possibly 
half  as  much  more.  This  would  be  a  splendid 
addition  to  the  somewhat  slim  building  fund  of 
the  M.  O.  R.'s. 

Lily  Pendleton  went  about  these  days  with  a 
very  self-satisfied  expression  of  countenance 
and  such  a  mysterious  manner  that  Bobby  said 
to  her: 

"  Huh !  you  look  like  an  old  hen  that's  hidden 
her  nest  and  thinks  nobody's  going  to  find  it. 
What  are  you  up  to  now?  " 

"Don't  you  wish  you  knew?"  returned  Lily. 

Even  Hester  Grimes  admitted  that  she  was  not 
fn  Lil's  confidence.  But  the  hints  Lily  dropped 
troubled  Mother  Wit. 

Laura  Belding  had  not  forgotten  the  discov- 
ery her  chum  had  made  regarding  the  identity 


172    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

of  the  man  who  called  himself  "  Pizotti."  The 
stage  director  would  not  again  attend  the  per- 
formance of  "  The  Spring  Road "  until  the  day 
of  the  first  production.  Yet  Laura  believed  that 
Lily  had  an  understanding  of  some  sort  with 
him. 

Governor  Street,  where  Griff  told  Jess  the 
Plornish  family  lived,  was  one  of  the  very 
poorest  in  that  part  of  the  city,  being  located 
at  the  foot  of  the  Hill  and  below  Market  Street 
itself. 

Laura  and  Jess  went  shopping  one  afternoon 
on  Market  Street;  and  despite  the  fact  that  it 
was  nipping  cold  weather,  and  that  the  street 
was  a  mass  of  snow-ice,  save  on  the  car  tracks, 
they  walked  home.  The  sidewalks  were  slip- 
pery, and  it  took  some  caution  to  keep  one's 
feet;  but  the  chums  were  so  sure  of  their  bal- 
ance that  they  stepped  along  quite  briskly. 

From  Mr.  VandergrifFs  store  they  saw  a 
poorly  dressed  little  girl — perhaps  eight  years 
old,  or  so — dragging  a  soap  box  on  runners. 
The  box  had  several  packages  of  groceries  in  it, 
besides  a  bottle  of  milk. 

Just  as  the  child  started  across  Market  Street 
there  came  a  heavy  sleigh  with  plumes,  great 
robes,  a  pair  of  dapple  gray  horses,  and  a  great 
jingling  of  bells.  The  driver  did  not  see  the 


MOTHER  PUTS  TWO  AND  TWO  TOGETHER 


173 


little  girl  with  her  box  until  it  was  almost  too 
late  to  pull  out. 

It  all  happened  in  a  flash !  The  peril  was  upon 
the  child  before  she  or  anybody  else  realized  it; 
and  it  had  passed  her,  only  smashing  her  sled 
and  spilling  her  goods,  in  another  moment. 

The  sleigh,  with  the  horses  prancing,  swept 
on  and  did  not  even  stop  for  its  occupants  to 
note  the  damage  it  had  done.  The  child  was 
left  crying  in  the  gutter,  with  the  groceries  scat- 
tered about  and  the  milk  making  a  white  river 
upon  the  dirty  ice. 

Laura  sprang  to  aid  the  little  one  in  picking 
up  her  goods;  but  Jess  exclaimed: 

"Did  you  see  that,  Laura?" 

"  I  should  think  I  did !  And  they  never 
stopped." 

"But  did  you  see  who  was  in  the  sleigh?" 

"  No." 

"  It  was  Lil — and  that  man  was  riding  with 
her  again." 

"  Pizotti  ?  "  gasped  Laura. 

"Yes.  Here!  give  me  that  bottle.  I'll  run 
across  and  get  another  bottle  of  milk  from  Mr. 
Vandergriff.  We'll  have  to  help  the  little  one 
carry  her  stuff  home.  The  little  sled  is  smashed 
to  smithereens." 

"  All  right,  Jess.    Now,  don't  cry,  child ! "  ex- 


174    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

claimed  Mother  Wit,  kindly,  hovering  over  the 
little  girl.  "You  won't  be  blamed  for  this,  I 
know/' 

But  the  child  was  staring  after  the  sleigh  in- 
stead of  picking  up  her  goods,  and  with  such  a 
wondering  look  on  her  face  that  Laura  asked: 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  What  did 
you  see  ?  " 

The  child  still  remained  dumb,  and  Laura  took 
her  by  the  shoulder  and  shook  her  a  little. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Maggie,"  said  the  little  one,  gulping  down 
a  sob. 

"Maggie  what?" 

"  No,  ma'am ;  Maggie  Plornish,"  stammered 
the  other. 

"  My  goodness  me !  "  gasped  Laura.  "  Did 
you  see  the  man  in  that  sleigh  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am !  No  ma'am !  "  cried  the  little 
girl,  in  great  haste,  and  shaking  her  head  vio- 
lently. "  There  warn't  no  man  in  the  sleigh." 

"Yes  there  was,  child." 

"  I  didn't  see  no  man,"  declared  Maggie,  ener- 
getically. "  It  was  the  lady  I  seen." 

"  Do  you  know  her?  "  asked  Laura,  slowly, 
convinced  that  the  child  was  deceiving  her — or, 
at  least,  attempting  to  do  so. 

"  No,  ma'am.     I  never  seed  her  before." 


MOTHER  PUTS  TWO  AND  TWO  TOGETHER    175 

It  was  evidently  useless  to  try  to  get  anything 
more  out  of  the  child  on  that  tack.  But  Laura 
was  sure  that  there  could  not  be  two  Plornish 
families  in  Centerport,  and  if  Jess  had  seen  the 
stage  director  in  Lily  Pendleton's  sleigh,  it  was 
plain  that  Maggie  had  seen  him,  too.  And  she 
had  recognized  him. 

"Where  do  you  live,  little  girl?  "  asked  Laura, 
quietly,  as  she  saw  Jess  returning  with  a  fresh 
bottle  of  milk. 

"  Over  'ere  on  Governor  Street.  Number 
ninety-three,  Miss." 

"  Lead  the  way,  then,"  said  Laura,  promptly. 
"  We'll  help  you  carry  your  things  home  and 
explain  to  mamma  how  you  came  to  get  them 
scattered.  You  surely  have  a  mamma,  haven't 
you?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  And  there's  a  new  baby. 
That's  who  the  milk's  for." 

"  Say !  how  many  of  you  Plornish  children 
are  there?"  asked  Jess,  to  whom  Laura  had 
immediately  whispered  the  intelligence  that  this 
child  was  evidently  one  of  Mr.  Pizotti's  prog- 
eny. 

"  Seven,  ma'am.  But  some's  older'n  me  and 
they're  workin'." 

"Don't  you  go  to  school?"  asked  Laura. 

"  I  can't — not  right  now.     We  ain't  got  good 


176    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

shoes  to  go  'round — nor  petticoats.  And  then, 
the  baby  didn't  come  along  until  a  month  ago  and 
he  has  to  be  'tended  some  while  mamma  washes 
and  cleans  up  around." 

Laura  looked  at  Jess  meaningly  and  asked : 

"Where's  your  papa?" 

"  Oh !  he's  home,"  said  the  child,  immediately 
losing  her  smart  manner  of  speaking. 

"Doesn't  he  work?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am.     Sometimes." 

"What's  his  trade?"  asked  Jess. 

"Huh?" 

Maggie  Plornish  had  suddenly  become  very 
dull  indeed! 

"  Doesn't  your  father  work  regularly  ?  "  ex- 
plained Laura,  kindly.  "  Hasn't  he  any  par- 
ticular work?  " 

Maggie  considered  this  thoughtfully.  Then 
she  shook  her  head  and  with  gravity  replied: 
"  I  guess  he's  an  outa." 

"A  what?"  gasped  Jess. 

"An  outa,  Miss." 

"What  under  the  sun's  an  'outa'?"  de- 
manded Jess,  looking  at  Laura. 

But  Mother  Wit  understood  and  smiled. 
"You  mean  he's  'most  always  out  of  work?" 
she  asked. 

Maggie  Plornish  nodded  vigorously. 


MOTHER  PUTS  TWO  AND  TWO  TOGETHER    177 

"Yes,  ma'am!  He's  us'lly  outa  work.  Most 
reg'larly.  Yes,  ma'am !  " 

"  Well  for  mercy's  sake !  "  gasped  Jess,  gaz- 
ing at  her  chum  in  wonder.  "  Can  you  beat 
that?  If  this  is  the  same  family " 

Laura  stayed  her  with  a  look.  "  We'll  see," 
said  Mother  Wit.  "  Lead  on,  Maggie.  We'll 
see  your  mother,  anyway." 


CHAPTER   XXII 

MRS.  PLORNISH 

GOVERNOR  STREET  was  just  as  dirty  and 
squalid  as  any  other  tenement-house  street  in 
the  poorer  section  of  a  middle-class  city.  The 
street-cleaning  department  had  given  up  all  hope 
before  they  reached  Governor  Street,  and  the 
middle  of  the  way  was  a  series  of  ridges  and 
mountains  of  heaped-up,  dirty,  frozen  snow. 

The  snow  had  been  cleaned  from  the  side- 
walks, and  the  gutters  freed  so  that  the  melting 
ice  could  run  off  by  way  of  the  sewers  when 
the  sun  was  kind;  but  the  way  to  Number  93 
was  not  a  pleasant  one  to  travel. 

However,  Laura  and  Jess,  with  little  Maggie, 
reached  the  door  in  question  in  a  few  minutes. 
A  puff  of  steamy  air — the  essence  of  countless 
washings — met  the  girls  as  the  lower  door  was 
pushed  open.  That  is  the  only  way  the  long 
and  barren  halls  were  heated — by  the  steam  from 
the  wash-boilers.  For  Number  93  Governor 
Street  was  one  of  those  tenement  houses  which 
178 


MRS.  PLORNISH  179 

seem  always  to  be  in  a  state  of  being  washed, 
and  laundered,  and  cleaned  up;  yet  which  never 
show  many  traces  of  cleanliness,  after  all. 

"  We  live  on  the  top  floor,"  said  Maggie,  vol- 
unteering her  first  remark  since  starting  home- 
ward. 

"  That  doesn't  scare  us,"  said  Laura,  cheer- 
fully. "  Lead  on,  MacDuff !  " 

"  No.  My  name's  Plornish,"  said  this  very 
literal — and  seemingly  dull — little  girl. 

"  Very  well,  Maggie  MacDuff  Plornish ! " 
laughed  Mother  Wit.  "  We  follow  you." 

The  little  girl  toiled  up  the  stairs  like  an  old 
woman-.  Laura  and  Jess  caught  glimpses  of 
other  tenements  as  they  followed  the  child  and 
saw  that  there  was  real  poverty  here.  Jess  began 
to  compare  her  situation  with  that  of  these 
humble  folk,  and  saw  that  she  had  much  to 
be  grateful  for. 

She  was  troubled  over  the  lack  of  a  new 
party  dress,  perhaps,  or  because  there  were  times 
when  she  and  her  mother  were  pinched  for 
money.  But  the  bare  floors  and  -uncurtained 
windows  of  these  "  flats,"  with  the  poor  furni- 
ture and  raggedly  clothed  children,  spelled  a 
degree  of  poverty  deeper  than  Jess  Morse  had 
imagined  before. 

A  sallow  woman  met  them  at  the  door  of  one 


i So    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

of  the  top-floor  flats.  She  was  as  faded  as  her 
calico  dress.  Her  arms  were  lean  and  her  hands 
wrinkled,  and  all  the  flesh  about  her  ringer  nails 
was  swollen  and  of  a  livid  hue,  from  being  so 
much  in  hot  water. 

Indeed,  two  steaming  tubs  stood  in  the 
kitchen  into  which  the  girls  of  Central  High 
were  ushered.  A  big  wash  was  evidently  under 
way,  and  Mrs.  Plornish  wiped  her  arms  and 
hands  from  the  suds,  as  she  invited  the  girls  in, 
staring  in  amazement  at  one  and  another  mean- 
while. 

"  Your  little  Maggie  met  with  an  accident, 
Mrs.  Plornish,"  said  Laura,  pleasantly,  putting 
the  packages  she  had  carried  uponi  the  table. 
"  And  so  we  helped  her  home  with  her  gro- 
ceries." 

"  And  Mr.  Vandergriff  says  never  mind  the 
bottle  of  milk  that  was  spilled,"  explained  Jess, 
setting  the  second  bottle  on  the  table. 

"You  come  from  Mr.  Vandergriff? "  asked 
the  woman,  her  faded  cheek  coloring  a  trifle. 

Laura  explained  more  fully.  Mrs.  Plornish 
seemed  to  have  had  her  motherly  instincts  pretty 
well  quenched  by  time  and  poverty. 

"  Yes'm.  I  expect  Maggie'll  git  runned  over 
and  killed  some  day  on  that  there  Market 
Street,"  she  complained.  "But  I  ain't  got  no- 


MRS.  PLORNISH  jgi 

body  else  to  send.     Bob  and  Betty,  and  Charle- 
magne, air  either  at  school  or  to  work " 

"Where  is  your  husband?"  asked  Laura, 
briskly.  "Is  he  working?" 

"  Off  an'  on,"  said  the  woman,  but  looking  at 
the  visitors  a  little  doubtfully. 

"Engaged  just  at  present?"  pursued  Laura. 

"  Look  here,  Miss,"  said  Mrs.  Plornish,  "  air 
you  charity  visitors?  Though  you  be  young." 

"  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  charities," 
Laura  said.  "  We  just  came  to  help  Maggie. 
I  didn't  know  but  I  might  know  of  something 
for  your  husband  to  do  if  he  is  out  of  work." 

"  He  ain't.  He's  got  a  job  right  now.  And 
I  guess  it  will  turn  out  to  be  a  good  one,"  spoke 
Mrs.  Plornish,  and  she  smiled  with  sudden  satis' 
faction. 

"  It  seems  to  please  you,  Mrs.  Plornish,"  said 
Jess,  quickly.  "I  hope  you  will  not  be  disap- 
pointed. Where  is  he  working?  " 

"  Oh,  this  job  o'  work  is  goin'  to  take  him  out 
o'  town  for  a  while,"  returned  the  woman,  doubt- 
fully. 

"Indeed?  To  Lumberport?  "  asked  the  in- 
sistent Jess. 

"  No." 

"To  Keyport,  then?" 

"  I  can't  tell  you.     It — it's  a  secret — that  is, 


182    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

it's  sort  of  a  private  affair.  Abel  is  a  very 
smart  man  in  his  way — and  this — er — this  job 
will  bring  him  considerable  money,  I  expect.  I 
hope  we'll  all  be  better  off  soon." 

She  seemed  excited  by  the  prospect  of  her 
husband's  secret  employment,  yet  she  was  doubt- 
ful, too.  Laura  and  Jess  looked  at  each  other 
and  they  both  came  to  the  same  conclusion.  If 
Abel  Plornish,  alias  "  Mr.  Pizotti,"  was  schem- 
ing to  get  some  money  from  the  Pendletons, 
Mrs.  Plornish  knew  at  least  a  little  something 
about  it. 

But  Laura  did  not  know  how  to  get  this  in- 
formation from  the  woman;  nor  did  the  girl 
believe  that  it  was  really  right  for  her  to  do  so. 
But  Mother  Wit  thought  it  would  do  no  harm  to 
help  the  family  if  she  could  do  so  without  of- 
fending. She  drew  forth  her  purse  and  looked 
gently  at  Mrs.  Plornish. 

"  You  won't  mind  if  I  give  you  something  to 
spend  on  Maggie  ?  "  asked  Mother  Wit,  in  her 
most  winning  way.  "  Do  let  me  help  her,  Mrs. 
Plornish!  I  really  mean  no  offense." 

"  Why,  you  look  an  honest  enough  young 
lady,"  said  the  woman. 

"  Maggie  says  she  needs  shoes  so  that  she  can 
go  to  school.  Don't  you  think  you  can  spare 
her  for  at  least  a  part  of  the  time  ?  " 


MRS.  PLORNISH  183 

"  Mebbe  I'd  better,  Miss.  The  truant  officer's 
been  around  once,"  said  Mrs.  Plornish.  "  But 
the  baby's  so  small " 

"If  your  husband  is  as  successful  as  you 
think  he'll  be,"  interposed  Jess,  sharply,  "you'll 
be  able  to  afford  to  let  her  go,  eh?  Then 
you  will  not  have  to  work  so  hard  your- 
self." 

"That's  right,  Miss!"  cried  Mrs.  Plornish, 
briskly. 

Laura  put  the  money  for  Maggie's  shoes  into 
her  hand.  "  I  hope  we  may  come  and  see 
Maggie  again?"  she  said,  pinching  the  thin 
cheek  of  the  little  girl,  who  had  been  staring  at 
them  all  this  time,  without  winking,  and  with- 
out a  word. 

"  Sure  you  can,  Miss !  And  thank  you.  Thank 
the  young  lady,  Maggie,"  ordered  Mrs.  Plor- 
nish. 

Maggie  gave  a  funny,  bobbing  little  courtesy 
as  the  older  girls  went  out.  Laura  and  Jess  said 
nothing  to  each  other  until  they  (reached  the 
street.  Then  the  latter  declared: 

"  She  knows  something  about  it." 

"About  what?"  asked  Laura. 

"  Whatever  it  is  that's  going  on.  Whatever 
it  is  *  Pizotti '  is  doing." 

"  And  we  know  he  is  staging  your  play  for 


184    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

the  M.  O.  R.'s,"  said  Laura,  quietly.  "  That's 
all  we  do  know  at  present." 

"  But  there's  something  else." 

"  That  we  don't  know.     I  wish  we  did." 

"  And  he's  going  out  of  town !  " 

"  Perhaps  that  is  not  so,"  returned  Laura, 
thoughtfully.  "  Of  course  his  wife  knows  that 
he  works  under  an  assumed  name.  That  is  no 
crime,  of  course " 

"  But  there's  something  odd  about  it  all," 
cried  Jess. 

"  All  right.  How  are  we  going  to  find  out  ? 
Lil  won't  tell  us " 

"  And  it  is  her  business — or  her  mother's," 
said  Jess.  "  And  that's  a  fact." 

"  She's  one  of  us — she's  a  Central  High  girl," 
repeated  Laura.  "  If  we  can  save  her  from 
the  result  of  her  own  awful  folly,  we  should  do 
so." 

"  Huh !  And  we  don't  know  what  she's  to  be 
saved  from  as  yet ! "  cried  Jess,  which  ended  the 
discussion  for  the  time  being. 

But  that  evening  Bobby  Hargrew  hailed  Jess 
in  her  father's  store. 

"  Say,  Eminent  Author !  what  do  you  know 
about  this?" 

"  About  what,  Bobby  ?  "  returned  Jess. 

Bobby  was  unfurling  some  sort  of  a  folded 


MRS.   PLORNISH  185 

paper  which  she  had  drawn  from  that  inex- 
haustible pocket  of  hers. 

"  See !  it's  a  show  bill.  My  cousin,  Ed  Pem- 
broke, sent  it  to  me  from  Keyport.  He  says  the 
town  is  plastered  with  them.  Does  it  remind 
you  of  anything?  "  and  she  began  to  read  in  a 
loud  voice : 

"  '  Coming !  Coming !  Coming !  North 

Street  Orpheum '  same  date  as  your  show 

here  on  Friday  night,  Jess." 

"  I  see,"  said  Jess,  peering  over  her  shoulder 
as  Bobby  unctuously  read  on: 

"  '  High  Class  Entertainment  for  High  Class 
^eople!'  Ha!  that's  good,"  sniffed  Bobby. 
'  '  The  Lady  of  the  Castle'  played  by  a  capable 
cast  of  professional  Thespians,  who  will  assist 
the  Talented  Young  Amateur,  GREBA  PEN- 
DENNIS.  Her  portrayal  of  the  Duchess  is  a 
Work  of  Art.'  AVow,  wow!  Listen  to  that 
now !  "  cried  Bobby,  in  great  delight.  "  Wouldn't 
you  think  that  was  Lil  Pendleton?" 

Jess  stared  at  the  bill,  and  whispered :  "  I 
would  indeed." 

"  'But  of  course  it  isn't !  "  gasped  Bobby,  look  - 
'  ing  at  Jess,  in  sudden  curiosity. 

"  What  is  Lil's  middle  name  ? "  demanded 
Jess,  suddenly. 

"  Why — I Ah !    she   has   got   a   middle 


186    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

name,  hasn't  she  ?  She  signs  it  '  Lillian  G.  Pen- 
dleton!'" 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Jess. 

"But  of  course  this  can't  be  Lil?"  cried 
Bobby,  aghast.  "'The  Lady  of  the  Castle' 
might  be  another  name  for  '  The  Duchess  of 
Doosenberry ' ;  though.  What  do  you  think, 
Jess?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  said  Jess. 
"  But  you  give  me  that  bill,  Bobby,  and  I'll  show 
it  to  Mother  Wit." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
"CAUGHT  ON  THE  FLY" 

THE  last  few  days  before  the  first  perform- 
ance of  "  The  Spring  Road  "  was  a  whirl  of  ex- 
citement for  most  of  the  girls  of  Central  High, 
and  all  those  belonging  to  the  M.  O.  R's.  or  who 
were  to  take  part  in  the  play.  Mr.  Sharp,  on  his 
own  responsibility,  announced  a  general  holiday 
for  Friday,  with  certain  lessons  to  be  made  up 
to  pay  for  the  deducted  time. 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  little  work  can  be  ex- 
pected from  either  the  young  ladies  or  young 
gentlemen  on  the  momentous  day,"  he  said. 
"Besides,  I  understand  that  Miss  Gould  desires 
to  have  a  final  rehearsal  of  the  play  on  Friday 
morning  on  the  stage  upstairs.  Therefore,  mere 
matters  of  education  may  be  put  aside." 

He  was  quite  good  natured  about  it,  however, 
and  entirely  approved  of  the  attempt  of  Central 
High  pupils  to  do  something  upon  the  stage  that 
was  really  "  worth  while."  And  Jess  Morse's 
play  was  indeed  far  above  the  average  of  ama- 
teur attempts. 

187 


188    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"  You  girls  are  invited  to  a  dash  on  the  Blue 
Streak  after  the  rehearsal  to-morrow,  Sis,"  Chet 
Belding  said  to  Laura  at  dinner  Thursday  even- 
ing. "  Lance  and  I  will  show  you  some  sport." 

Mrs.  Belding  looked  doubtfully  at  her  hus- 
band. "  Do  you  think  that  ice-boat  Chet  has 
built  is  really  safe  for  the  girls,  James?"  she 
asked. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  Mother ! "  returned  Jthe 
jeweler,  his  eyes  twinkling,  "  it's  quite  as  safe 
for  Laura  and  Jess  as  it  is  for  the  boys." 

"  Ye — es,  I  suppose  so,"  admitted  the  good 
woman.  "  But  it  doesn't  seem  so  safe.  Girls 
are  different  from  boys." 

"  Not  so  different,  nowadays,"  grumbled 
Chet  "  You  ought  to  see  some  of  those  husky 
Central  High  girls  going  off  with  Mrs.  Case 
on  their  skis.  And  ski  running  is  as  dangerous 
as  ice-boating — believe  me!" 

"  I  do  believe  you,  my  son.  I  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  your  word,"  returned  Mother  Belding, 
quietly. 

"  Oh,  Mum !  that's  only  an  expression " 

"  Please  stick  to  English — fend  facts,  Chet- 
wood,"  advised  his  mother. 

"  I  declare !  "  grumpily  remarked  her  son.  "  A 
meal  of  victuals  at  this  house  has  got  to  be  just 
like  attending  one  of  Old  Dimple's  lectures." 


"CAUGH   ON   THE   FLY"  189 

"  Chet !  "   spoke  his   father,   sternly. 

"  Well !  I  guess  I  didn't  mean  it  just  that 
way — not  the  way  it  sounded,"  the  boy  said 
hastily.  "  But  mother  does  pick  a  fellow  up 

"  I  have  been  doing  that  all  your  life,  my 
son,"  said  his  mother.  "Whenever  you  stub 
your  toe,  mother  has  been  their  to  comfort 
you." 

"  Got  you  there,  Chet,"  laughed  Laura.  "  And 
you  used  to  be  a  terrible  *  stumble  heels/ 
too." 

"  Say !  you're  all  down  on  me,"  declared  her 
brother,  but  in  a  milder  tone.  "  I  reckon  I'm 
not  so  popular  in  this  house  as  I  thought  I  was. 
But  that  isn't  the  answer  to  my  question,  Laura. 
Do  you  and  Jess  want  to  fly  with  us  to-morrow 
just  after  lunch?" 

"Of  course  we  do,"  replied  his  sister.  "I 
don't  suppose  mother  has  any  real  objection?" 

"  My  objections  to  your  sports  and  athletics 
seem  to  have  very  little  reality  about  them,  chil- 
dren," said  Mrs.  Belding.  "  Even  my  husband 
will  not  give  me  backing." 

"  WThen  I  see  Chet  and  Laura  anemic,  or 
otherwise  sickly,  as  the  result  of  their  out-of- 
door  sports  or  gym.  work,  you  will  find  me  up  in 
arms  with  you  against  such  activities,  Mother," 


190    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

declared  Mr.  Belding,  jovially.  "  I'd  a  good 
deal  rather  have  little  Mother  Wit  here  half  a 
Tom-boy " 

"Which  I'm  not,  I  hope,  Papa  Belding!" 
cried  Laura,  quickly. 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  said  her  mother. 

"All  right,"  laughed  Mr.  Belding.  "But  I 
would  rather  you  were  than  like  a  few  of  the 
girls  who  attend  your  school.  Some  of  them 
are  growing  up  to  womanhood  too  quickly  to 
suit  me.  There's  that  Pendleton  girl " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Lily  Pendleton, 
Father?"  asked  Laura,  quickly. 

"  Why,  she  dresses  like  a  girl  of  twenty-five 
— and  acts  that  grown  up,  too,"  observed  the 
jeweler.  "  She  was  in  the  store  a  week  or  so 
ago.  Now!  there's  another  bad  thing.  Her 
mother  lets  her  do  just  about  as  she  pleases,  I 
guess." 

"  Mrs.  Pendleton  has  always  been  very  lenient 
with  Lillian,"  agreed  his  wife. 

"  The  girl  brought  into  my  store  a  jewel  box 
in  which  were  things  valued  at  more  than  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  I  believe.  Old-fashioned  jewels 
left  her  by  her  grandmother.  She  thought  of 
having  some  re-set.  And  she  really  wanted  me 
to  buy  some  of  them.  She  said  her  mother 
wouldn't  care  what  she  did  with  them." 


"CAUGH  ON  THE  FLY"  191 

"Of  course,  James,  you  did  not  give  the  girl 
money?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Belding. 

"Of  course  I  did  not!  I  am  not  a  pawn- 
broker. But  I  valued  the  stones  for  her,  and 
she  took  them  away.  I  wonder  what  she  really 
meant  by  trying  to  sell  them  ?  " 

Laura  listened  and  flushed;  but  she  remained 
silent.  Since  her  visit  to  the  Plornish  tenement, 
and  since  she  had  read  the  playbill  from  Keyport 
that  Jess  had  brought  her,  Laura  had  been  very 
gravely  exercised  in  her  mind  regarding  Lily 
Pendleton.  But  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
the  point  of  taking  either  her  father  or  mother 
into  her  confidence.  It  was  not  her  own  secret; 
it  was  Lily's. 

The  following  morning  the  rehearsal  of  "  The 
Spring  Road"  went  with  a  snap  and  vim  that 
delighted  everybody.  Miss  Gould  could  not 
praise  the  girls  and  boys  too  highly.  Even  Mr. 
Pizotti  signified  his  satisfaction  with  the  way  in 
which  the  play  proceeded.  Really,  the  actual 
production  of  the  piece  would  go  on  well  with- 
out his  presence,  although  the  sum  they  had 
agreed  to  pay  the  stage  manager  covered  the 
three  performances  of  the  play  already  arranged 
for. 

Laura  and  Jess  went  down  to  the  lake  after 
luncheon  to  meet  the  two  boys.  The  Blue 


192    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

Streak,  fresh  in  a  new  coat  of  paint,  and  with 
every  part  of  the  mechanism  guaranteed  in  per- 
fect order,  was  already  hauled  out  upon  the  ice. 

The  surface  of  the  lake  was  not  as  it  had  been 
when  the  girls  had  taken  their  first  ride  on  the 
aero-iceboat.  Then  the  ice  was  like  glass;  but 
now  it  was  pebbly,  broken  in  spots,  and  not  a 
little  "hummocky."  There  was  a  stiff  wind 
blowing,  too,  and  this  broke  up  the  thinner  ice 
around  the  water-holes.  The  course  for  sleighs 
and  for  ice-boats  was  fairly  safe,  however,  all 
the  way  to  Keyport. 

"  Say !  we  just  saw  Lily  going  driving  with 
that  sleek  little  foreigner,"  said  Lance,  as  the 
two  girls  appeared.  "  I  should  think  Mrs.  Pen- 
dleton  would  send  a  chaperone  with  her  daugh- 
ter. Old  Mike,  the  coachman,  is  right  under  the 
girl's  thumb." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Lance?"  asked  Laura, 
quickly. 

"Why,  Lil  Pendleton  and  the  stage  manager 
are  out  there  in  the  Pendletons'  sleigh.  They're 
aiming  for  Keyport.  And  Lil  has  a  big  box  in 
the  sleigh.  Guess  they  are  taking  lunch  along." 

"  Lunch !  "  ejaculated  Chet.  "  Why,  that  yel- 
low box  would  hold  enough  for  an  army." 

"My  goodness  me!  A  yellow  box?"  cried 
Jess.  "Was  it  that  box  in  which  Lil  has  been 


CAUGH   ON   THE   FLY" 


193 


bringing  her  costumes  to  and  from  the  rehear- 
sals?" 

"  Dunno,"  said  Chet,  not  much  interested. 

But  Jess  turned  to  her  chum,  eagerly. 

:<  You  know,  Laura,  she  insisted  in  packing 
the  dresses  all  into  that  box  again  this  noon  and 
taking  them  home  with  her  as  usual,  although 
every  other  girl  left  her  costume  in  the  dressing- 
rooms.  Did  you  notice  it?" 

"  No,"  said  Laura,  slowly. 

"  Maybe  she  doesn't  expect  to  get  back  until 
it's  time  to  go  on  for  the  evening  performance," 
suggested  Lance. 

"  That's  not  it,"  returned  Laura,  quietly. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  that  girl  has  got  in 
her  mind,  Laura?"  demanded  Jess,  as  the  boys 
were  making  the  final  preparations  for  their 
start. 

"  I  do  not  know.  But  I  believe  she  is  the 
'  talented  young  amateur '  advertised  to  appear 
at  the  Keyport  Orpheum  to-night,"  said  Laura, 
gravely. 

"  You  don't  mean  it ! "  gasped  Jess.  Then 
she  added,  with  sudden  excitement: 

"Why,  she'll  spoil  my  play!" 

"  If  she  is  not  here  to  play  her  part  she  will 
certainly  interfere  sadly  with  the  success  of  *  The 
Spring  Road,'  "  admitted  Laura. 


194    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

"Oh,  oh!  That  mean,  mean  thing!"  cried 
Jess,  under  her  breath. 

"She  is  taking  her  costumes  to  wear  in  the 
production  of  her  own  play,  which  she  has  re- 
named '  The  Lady  of  the  Castle/  "  said  Laura. 
"  She  will  make  a  lovely  '  Duchess  of  Doosen- 
berry/  as  Bobby  nicknamed  it,  in  those  robes, 
Jess." 

"  Why,  Laura,  I  believe  you  are  not  sympa- 
thetic," cried  Jess. 

"  Don't  you  be  afraid,  dear.  Miss  Lily  will 
not  appear  as  *  the  talented  yong  amateur,  Greba 
Pendennis/  if  that  is  what  she  really  intends  to 
attempt.  I  have  fixed  that." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  Jess.  But 
just  then  the  boys  shouted  to  them  and  they  had 
to  hurry  to  take  their  places  in  the  ice-boat. 

"  Chet,"  said  Laura,  to  her  brother,  as  she 
settled  herself  aboard,  "  run  down  near  the  Pen- 
dleton  sleigh  if  you  can.  I  want  to  speak  to 
Lil." 

"  Just  as  you  say,  Sis,"  returned  her  brother. 
"All  ready?  Let  her  go,  Lance!  We'll  show 
these  girls  some  traveling,  eh?" 

The  Blue  Streak  was  off  in  a  moment  and  the 
way  she  tore  over  the  ice  always  gave  the  two 
girls,  at  first,  a  feeling  as  though  a  wreck  were 
imminent.  But  in  a  minute  or  two  the  feeling 


"CAUGH  ON   THE   FLY"  195 

subsided,  and  through  the  automobile  goggles 
they  both  wore  they  dared  look  ahead. 

On  this  cold  afternoon  there  were  not  many 
sleighs  or  ice-boats  on  the  racing  course  between 
Centerport  and  Keyport.  But  suddenly  Lance 
looked  around,  grirtned  through  his  mask,  and 
waved  his  hand  toward  the  shore.  The  girls 
immediately  knew  that  he  had  sighted  the  Pen- 
dleton  sleigh. 

Laura  turned  to  look  at  her  brother,  and  he 
nodded  at  her  reassuringly.  Lance  reduced  the 
speed1,  and  the  Blue  Streak  began  to  move  shore- 
ward. 

The  girls  could  now  see  the  sleigh  plainly. 
The  yellow  box  in  which  Lil  carried  her  cos- 
tumes was  a  splotch  of  color  against  the  white 
fur  robes.  And  there  was  Lil  herself  and  the 
black  figure  of  the  little  stage  director. 

The  Blue  Streak  ran  closer  and  of  a  sudden 
the  young  folks  aboard  the  ice-boat  saw  that 
something  was  amiss  with  the  Pendletons' 
horses.  The  dapple  grays  were  fat,  well  fed 
beasts,  and  the  coachman  was  old  and  rheumatic. 
Perhaps  the  appearance  of  another  ice-boat  that 
had  just  passed  the  sleigh  had  startled  the  horses. 

However  that  might  be,  old  Mike  was  sud- 
denly flung  from  his  seat,  and  the  horses  charged 
down  the  lake  at  a  gallop,  swinging  the  sleigh 


196    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

behind  them  at  a  pace  that  threatened  to  over- 
turn it  at  any  moment! 

The  four  friends  on  the  aero-iceboat  could 
hear  Lil  scream.  And  up  sprang  the  little  black 
figure  of  Pizotti,  alias  Plornish,  and  the  next 
moment  he  had  leaped  to  the  ice! 

The  horses  tore  on,  and  Lil  was  really  in  peril. 
But  Chet  guided  the  Blue  Streak  right  down  to 
the  runaway,  coming  so  close  that  Lance  Darby 
was  able  to  leap  into  the  driver's  seat  from  the 
running  ice-boat. 

It  was  a  feat  that  called  for  agility  and  cool- 
ness; but  the  boy  did  it  bravely.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  was  out  on  the  tongue,  had  recovered 
the  trailing  lines,  and  the  dapple  grays  were  soon 
brought  to  an  abrupt  stop. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  GREAT   NIGHT 

THE  event  had  certainly  come  to  a  startling 
climax.  Even  Lily  herself,  writing  a  dozen 
"  Duchess  of  Dawnleighs,"  could  not  have  im- 
agined quite  so  serious  a  situation  to  balk  the  de- 
termination of  her  created  heroines,  as  here  had 
arrived  to  balk  herself! 

"  Well,  Lil,"  Laura  said  to  her,  as  the  girl  got 
out  of  the  sleigh.  "  I  guess  you  won't  run  away 
to-day  and  leave  us  all  in  a  fix — and  spoil  Jess's 
play.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"Oh,  Laura!  is  poor  Mike  hurt?"  cried  the 
girl,  and  from  that  moment  Lara  thought  better 
of  her.  For  Lil  showed  she  was  not  entirely 
heartless.  She  had  thought  first  of  the  old 
coachman  who  had  served  her  family  for  so 
many  years,  and  who  was  even  then  probably 
helping  her  to  get  to  Keyport  and  the  expected 
performance  of  "  The  Duchess  of  Dawnleigh," 
against  his  own  good  sense. 

"  Here  he  comes,  limping,"  said  Laura,  rather 
197 


198    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

bruskly.  "  He's  not  dead.  But  how  about 
Plornish?" 

"  Plornish  ?  "  returned  Lil,  puzzled. 

"  Pizotti,  then,  if  you  prefer  his  stage  name.'* 

"Is — isn't  Pizotti  his  name?"  demanded  Lil, 
still  struggling  with  her  tears. 

"  His  real  name  is  Abel  Plornish,"  said  Laura, 
bluntly.  She  saw  no  use  in  "  letting  Lily  down 
easy."  "  He  has  a  wife  and  seven  children  liv- 
ing down  on  Governor  Street,  in  a  miserable 
tenement.  He  neglects  them  a  good  deal,  I  be- 
lieve. But  this  time,  if  he  had  made  what  he 

expected  to  out  of  you By  the  way,  Lil, 

what  were  you  going  to  pay  him?" 

"  I — I For  putting  me  on  the  stage  with 

his  company?"  she  stammered. 

"  Is  that  the  way  he  put  it?  Well,  yes,"  said 
Laura.  "  It's  the  same  thing.  He  was  going 
to  star  you  in  your  own  play,  was  he  ?  " 

"Ye— es,"  sobbed  Lily.  "And  now  it's  all 
spoiled !  And  I  was  going  to  take  all  the  money 
I  pawned  grandmother's  jewels  for " 

"Goodness  me!  How  much?"  snapped 
Laura. 

"  Five  hundred  dollars." 

"Has  he  got  the  cash?" 

"No,"  sobbed  Lil. 

"  All  right,  then.     No  harm  done.     I  went  to 


THE   GREAT  NIGHT 


199 


Mr.  Monterey  and  he  found  out  that  Plornish 
had  got  together  no  company  at  all.  You  were 
the  only  person  who  had  learned  a  part  in  your 
play,  I  guess,  Lily.  Ah !  Chet's  got  him." 

Indeed,  Chet  had  stopped  the  aero-iceboat 
and  run  back  to  the  prostrate  stage  director. 
Plornish  had  a  broken  leg  and  had  to  be  lifted 
by  both  boys  into  the  Pendleton  sleigh.  Old 
Michael  could  manage  the  horses  again  and 
turned  them  about.  Laura  elected  to  go  back  to 
Centerport  with  the  injured  man  and  the  very- 
much-disturbed  Lily  Pendleton. 

"  Now,  just  see  the  sort  of  a  man  this  fellow 
is,"  said  ^aura,  paying  no  attention  to  the  groan- 
ings  oi  Plornish.  "  He  was  intending  to  get 
the  money  from  you  at  Keyport  and  then  disap- 
pear. All  he  spent  was  merely  for  the  bills  put 
up  advertising  the  show — the  show  which  he 
never  intended  would  come  off,  Lil!  And  you 
were  going  down  there  and  leaving  us  all  in  the 
lurch!" 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry!"  groaned  Lil. 

"  I  hope  so.  Sorry  enough  to  go  home  and 
rest  and  prepare  to  play  your  part  in  '  The  Spring 
Road '  to-night,"  spoke  Laura,  tartly. 

"Oh,  dear  me!  how  can  I?  "  cried  the  girl. 

"  If  you  don't,"  said  Laura,  frankly,  "  I  won't 
keep  this  affair  a  secret.  You  will  be  the  laugh- 


200    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

ing  stock  of  all  Central  High.  I  am  not  going 
to  allow  Jess  Morse's  play  to  be  spoiled  because 
of  you.  If  you  were  so  jealous  and  envious 
that  you  did  not  want  to  see  Jess's  play  succeed, 
you  could  have  refused,  at  least,  to  be  cast  for  an 
important  part  in  it.  And  now,"  went  on 
Mother  Wit,  firmly,  "you  are  going  to  play  that 
part" 

"  Oh,  Laura !  you  are  so  harsh,"  sobbed  Lily. 

"  Much  that  will  hurt  you ! "  sniffed  Laura. 
"  We'll  drive  around  by  the  hospital  and  leave 
this  Plornish  ma.i.  If  he  dares  to  open  his 
mouth,  we'll  have  him  punished  for  trying  to 
swindle  you,"  and  Laura  looked  sternly  at  the 
black-eyed,  foreign-looking  fellow. 

"  You  see,  we  know  all  about  you,  Mr.  Plor- 
nish, and  you  will  have  to  abide  by  what  is  done 
for  you.  Some  of  us  will  help  your  family  while 
you  are  helpless.  But  you've  got  to  be  good,  or 
even  Mr.  Vandergriff  will  forget  that  you  and 
he  used  to  be  boys  together.  Pah!  with  your 
hair  dye,  and  paint  and  powder,  and  all!  Why, 
you  are  nearly  fifty  years  old,  so  Mr.  Vander- 
griff says,  and  you  act  and  dress  like  a  silly  boy." 

Lily  listened  to  all  this,  and  stopped  sobbing. 
She  began  to  see  that  there  was  a  chance  for  her 
to  escape  being  a  butt  for  her  school-fellows' 
jokes. 


THE   GREAT   NIGHT  20 1 

"  Can — can  you  keep  Jess  and  the  boys  from 
talking?"  she  whispered  to  Laura. 

"They'll  be  like  oysters  if  I  tell  them  to,"  de- 
clared Mother  Wit. 

"  Oh,  then,  I'll  do  my  best/'  agreed  the  fool- 
ish girl.  Possibly  she  was  deeply  impressed  by 
her  escape. 

Mother  Wit's  plans  were  carried  out  to  the  let- 
ter. Plornish  was  deposited  at  the  hospital, 
where  he  would  remain  for  some  weeks.  The 
performance  of  Jess's  play  would  have  to  get 
along  without  him  on  this  opening  night. 

And  when  the  hour  for  the  performance  ar- 
rived, Lily  Pendleton  was  ready,  her  tears  wiped 
away,  glorious  in  one  of  her  costumes,  and 
"  preening  like  a  peacock " — to  quote  Bobby 
Hargrew — before  one  of  the  long  mirrors  in  the 
dressing  room. 

"  My,  my !  "  laughed  Bobby.  "  You  look  as 
grand  as  the  Duchess  of  Doosenberry,  don't  you, 
Lil?" 

Lily  looked  at  her  rather  sharply.  "  I'd  really 
like  to  know  how  much  that  child  knows?"  the 
older  girl  murmured. 

But  it  wasn't  what  the  shrewd  Bobby  knew; 
it  was  what  she  suspected! 


CHAPTER  XXV 

GOOD  NEWS  FOR  JESS 

BEHIND  the  scenes  just  before  the  curtain  rose 
upon  the  first  act  of  "  The  Spring  Road  "  there 
was  such  a  bustle,  and  running  about,  and  whis- 
pering, and  excited  signals  and  fragmentary  talk, 
that  it  did  look,  Jess  said,  as  though  matters 
never  would  be  straightened  out. 

Did  this  one  know  his  or  her  part  perfectly? 
Was  this  dress  right?  Oh,  dear!  how  can  this 
one  be  made  to  look  right  "from  the  front?" 
And  a  thousand  other  doubts  and  queries. 

No  matter  how  many  times  a  play  is  re- 
hearsed, it  does  seem  just  before  the  opening 
performance  as  though  a  dozen  things  would 
happen  to  spoil  the  effect  of  the  first  appearance. 
And  to  the  author  of  the  play  it  seems  as  though 
every  person  in  that  audience  is  a  carping  critic! 

Jess  peered  through  the  peephole  in  the  cur- 
tain and  saw  that  the  hall  was  crowded. 

"  I  just  know  it  will  be  a  failure !  "  she  moaned 
to  her  chum,  Laura  Belding.  "  It  will  be 
laughed  at.  I  feel  it !  " 

202 


GOOD  NEWS  FOR  JESS  203 

"  Strange  how  I  should  feel  so  differently ! " 
spoke  Laura,  cheerfully. 

"  Oh,  dear !  I'll  never  be  able  to  hold  up  my 
head  again  if  it's  not  liked,"  Jess  pursued.  "  It 
will  just  kill  me." 

"  Don't  die  so  easy,  Chum,"  said  Laura. 
"  You  know  we'll  need  you  in  the  big  inter- 
school  meet  after  Easter." 

"  Oh !  I'll  never  be  fit  to  do  anything  in  ath- 
letics again !  "  gasped  Jess. 

Which  was  certainly  not  borne  out  by  the 
facts,  for  Jess  Morse  took  a  most  important  part 
in  the  spring  meet  of  the  Girls'  Branch  Athletic 
League,  as  a  perusal  of  the  next  volume  of  this 
series:  "The  Girls  of  Central  High  on  Track 
and  Field;  Or,  The  Champions  of  the  School 
League,"  will  prove. 

At  last  Miss  Gould  said  all  was  ready.  Really, 
she  did  very  well  without  the  assistance  of  the 
unpleasant,  black-eyed,  little  Pizotti!  The  sig- 
nal was  given  and  the  curtain  rose  on  the  first 
tableau — and  it  was  a  pretty  sight!  In  this 
allegorical  introduction  to  Jess's  play  there 
were  a  score  of  the  very  prettiest  girls  of  Cen- 
tral High,  and  they  had  been  dressed  and  were 
grouped  so  artistically  that  an  "Ah!"  of  ad- 
miration burst  from  the  big  audience. 

The  little  fantasy  unwound  the  thread  of  plot 


204    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGS, 

which  introduced  the  real  play;  but  when  the 
curtain  went  down  there  was  no  enthusiastic  ap- 
plause. The  audience  was  expectant;  but  did 
not  wholly  understand  it.  And  this  was  as  it 
should  be;  the  intent  of  that  little  prologue 
was  merely  to  whet  the  appetite  for  the  real 
play. 

"  The  Spring  Road  "  ran  its  three  acts  through 
with  unvarying  success.  The  applause  grew 
more  pronounced;  the  interest  of  the  audience 
grew  deeper.  The  fact  that  a  young  girl  had 
written  the  text  of  the  play  became  harder  and 
harder  to  believe  as  the  evening  lengthened. 

At  the  end — when  the  general  lights  went  out, 
one  by  one  upon  the  stage  and  left  the  two  prin- 
cipal characters  in  the  radiance  of  the  spot  light 
alone — and  when  this  dimmed  slowly  and  finally 
went  out,  the  silence  of  the  audience  was  mo- 
mentous. 

Jess,  in  the  wings,  clinging  to  her  chum, 
waited,  scarcely  breathing,  for  the  verdict.  Had 
it  failed?  Had  the  little  lesson  she  had  tried 
to  teach,  and  the  pretty  story  she  had  told,  failed 
to  "get  over?" 

Suddenly  there  was  a  roar  of  delight  from  the 
back  of  the  hall.  Some  of  the  older  boys  of 
Central  High  had  managed  to  get  tickets  to  this 
first  performance,  and,  led  by  big  Griff,  they  be- 


GOOD  NEWS  FOR  JESS  205 

gan  to  chant  the  well-known  yell  of  Central 
High. 

But  that  was  not  what  Jess  waited  for.  That 
was  school  loyalty.  She  had  expected  that. 

As  the  thunder  of  the  boys'  applause  began 
to  wane  there  was  another  sound  which  reached 
the  ears  of  those  listening  behind  the  curtain. 
A  steady,  sharp  clapping  of  hands;  then  joined 
by  a  shuffling  of  feet.  The  great  mass  of  the 
audience  was  applauding. 

The  curtain  went  up,  and  the  whole  company 
appeared.  It  rose  and  rose  again,  at  last  to  display 
only  the  principals,  down  to  the  final  two  who 
had  closed  the  play.  But  that  was  not  enough. 

They  could  hear  Dr.  Agnew's  heavy  voice 
growling  somewhere  out  in  the  darkness  of  the 
auditorium : 

"  Author !  Author !    Bring  her  out ! " 

The  boys  took  up  the  demand.  They  even 
called  on  Jess  Morse  by  name,  and  hitched  that 
name  to  the  battle  cry  of  their  athletic  field. 

"  You've  got  to  go !  "  cried  Laura,  giving  her 
chum  a  push.  "  You've  got  to,  Jess !  " 

And  so  Jess  Morse  stepped  forward,  modestly, 
bashfully,  and  faced  the  great  audience.  Tears 
half  blinded  her,  but  she  bowed  as  she  had  been 
taught.  And  all  the  time  she  tasted  the  first 
intoxicating  draught  of  Fame! 


2o6    GIRLS  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  ON  THE  STAGE 

But  that  was  not  quite  the  end  of  it  all.  Mr. 
Monterey,  of  the  Centerport  Opera  House,  was 
in  a  seat  down  in  front  that  evening.  He  never 
was  seen  to  applaud  once ;  but  on  Saturday  even- 
ing, when  the  play  was  repeated  for  the  general 
public  to  attend,  he  came  again  and  this  time 
brought  a  stranger  who  paid  quite  as  close 
attention  to  Jess's  play  as  did  Mr.  Monterey 
himself. 

After  the  performance  and  before  Jess  and 
Laura  started  for  home  with  their  escorts,  they 
heard  that  the  stranger  with  the  local  manager 
was  a  very  famous  New  York  producer.  He 
had  come  especially  to  see  "  The  Spring  Road." 

And  when  Jess  arrived  home  she  found  the 
gentleman,  with  Mr.  Monterey,  conferring  with 
her  mother  in  their  little  sitting  room. 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  Mrs.  Morse,  proudly, 
"  the  play  is  practically  Josephine's  own  work. 
It  is  her  idea,  clothed  in  her  own  language.  I 
am  pleased  that  you  find  it  so  admirable  for  a 
child  to  have  written " 

"  It  is  admirable — in  spots — for  anybody  to 
have  written,"  said  the  New  York  gentleman. 
"  And  this  is  the  young  lady?  " 

Mrs.  Morse  introduced  Jess. 

"You  are  the  budding  playwright?"  sug- 
gested the  stranger. 

"  I  am  not   so   sure   of   that,"    replied  Jess, 


GOOD  NEWS  FOR  JESS 


207 


troubled  a  little.  "  I  wanted  the  prize  Mrs. 
Kerrick  offered,  and  I  did  my  best." 

"And  your  best  is  very  good — remarkably 
good,"  declared  the  producer.  "  I  have  come  to 
see  you  and  your  mother  about  it.  I  want  you 
to  let  me  have  the  right  to  produce  the  play. 
Monday  I  will  come  with  a  contract;  meanwhile 
I  want  Mrs.  Morse  to  accept  this  check — which 
Mr.  Monterey  will  endorse  for  me — to  bind  the 
agreement.  I  take  -a  sort  of  option  on  the  play, 
as  it  were,"  he  said,  and  he  handed  the  check  to 
Jess. 

"You  do  not  mean  it?"  gasped  the  girl. 

"  I  certainly  do,"  said  the  other,  rising. 
"Your  play  is  not  like  the  work  of  a  professional 
playwright;  but  a  professional  writer  of  plays 

can  take  your  work  and  whip  it  into  shape 

And  I  am  willing  to  show  my  confidence  in  its 
final  success  by  risking  that  sum  upon  it  to  start 
with." 

Jess  looked  then  at  the  check.  It  was  another 
two  hundred  dollars.  Jess  shut  her  eyes  tight 
for  a  moment ;  then  she  opened  them  again  to  be 
sure  she  was  not  dreaming. 

When  she  opened  them  she  really  believed  she 
saw  Poverty  fly  out  of  the  window! 

THE  END 


THE  JANICE  DAY  SERIES 

By  HELEN  BEECHER  LONG 


12  mo,  doth,  illustrated,  and  colored  jacket 


A  series  of  books  for  girls  which  have  been 
uniformly  successful.  Janice  Day  is  a  character 
that  will  live  long  in  juvenile  fiction.  Every  volume 
is  full  of  inspiration.  There  is  an  abundance  of 
humor,  quaint  situations,  and  worth-while  effort, 
and  likewise  plenty  of  plot  and  mystery. 

An  ideal  series  for  girls  from  nine  to  sixteen. 

JANICE  DAY,  THE  YOUNG  HOMEMAKER 
JANICE  DAY  AT  POKETOWN 
THE  TESTING  OF  JANICE  DAY 
HOW  JANICE  DAY  WON 
THE  MISSION  OF  JANICE  DAY 


THE  NAN  SHERWOOD  SERIES 

By  Annie  Roe  Carr 


12  mo,  doth,  illustrated,  and  colored  jacket 


In  Annie  Roe  Carr  we  have  found  a  young  woman 
of  wide  experience  among  girls— in  schoolroom,  in 
camp  and  while  traveling.  She  knows  girls  of  to- 
day thoroughly — their  likes  and  dislikes  — and 
knows  that  they  demand  almost  as  much  action  as 
do  the  boys.  And  she  knows  humor— good,  clean 
fun  and  plenty  of  it. 

NAN  SHERWOOD  AT  PINE  CAMP 

or  The  Old  Lumberman's  Secret 

NAN  SHERWOOD  AT  LAKEVIEW  HALL 

or  The  Mystery  of  the  Haunted  Boathouse 

NAN  SHERWOOD'S  WINTER  HOLIDAYS 

or  Rescuing  the  Runaways 

NAN  SHERWOOD  AT  ROSE  RANCH 

or  The  Old  Mexican's  Treasure 

NAN  SHERWOOD  AT  PALM  BEACH 

or  Strange  Adventures  Among  the  Orange  Groves 


jetum  Ihis  material  to  the  librar.  from  ^K  » ....7  hmnm<l 

MAY  0 1 2007 


